Psychosis
by SnowWhiteOwl
Summary: When Harry was hit by the killing curse, a horcrux was created. In this story, Harry is affected by the piece of Voldemort's soul inside his head in a more noticable way than in the books. Muggles, not knowing any better, decide he must be mentally ill. What effects might the treatment on a psychiatric ward have for the boy-who-lived and the wizarding world?
1. Lily's son

_I don't own Harry Potter _

_If you are interested in some background information about this story, just look at my profile. Only one thing I should mention, while I post the first two chapters today, in future I will probably post only one chapter a week. Also, I'm not a native speaker of English, so there probably will be mistakes (I don't mind having the mistakes pointed out, though;))_

* * *

**Prologue**

**.**

Ever since they had gone into hiding, wizards had been quite ignorant of new developments in the Muggleworld.

Even Albus Dumbledore, self-proclaimed leader of the light and therefore highly tolerant of anything muggle-ish, wasn't aware of what electricity could do, that doing the dishes wasn't as troublesome for muggles as wizards thought it was since the dishwasher had been invented and, most importantly, that muggles had made extreme progress when medicine and the treatment of „unusual behaviour" was concerned.

As a result, he wasn't at all concerned when he laid little Harry onto the doorsteps of Number 4, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey, accompanied by two of his closest friends who were, however, equally oblivious of the threats muggle could pose to a wizard, or at least to a wizard like Harry.

Never once did either of the three thought about that being hit by a killing curse could have done any harm to the boy. He survived, didn't he?

And while Albus Dumbledore, who was somewhat aware of the possibilities what the cut on the forehead might imply, was clearly worried about the boys safety, he considered it entirely impossible that mere muggles may notice something disconcerting about the boy.

It never once crossed his mind that a piece of the soul of the most evil wizard of all time, attached to the soul of a child, would affect the boy. Would affect the boy in a way MUGGLES might notice.

Or would entail other things than that the boy had to die in order to banish Voldemort for good.

The boy-who-lived was seemingly peacefully asleep when he was left on the doorsteps of Number 4. And while his head surely hurt quite a bit, either inside and out, he would never remember this night and the days that followed. He would never remember the pain that resulted from a splinter of a foreign soul ensconcing itself in your mind, in your brain, and starting to feed on your sanity.

.

* * *

**Chapter 1 -Lily's child  
**

**.**

Petunia Dursley would never forget opening the frontdoor on November 2, 1981 and finding her nephew lying on the doorsteps, wrapped in only a thin blanket. Of course, she hadn't known it was her nephew until she had read the letter about 5 minutes later.

Her first reaction was to be outraged at whoever would leave a baby outside, at night, in November. The child was asleep, but shivered and its lips were in an unhealthy shade of purple. She brought the baby to the bathroom and immediately switched on Dudley's fan heater.

Suddenly being lifted and brought to somewhere warm awoke the child and it started to cry. Petunia tried to quiet it since it wouldn't do any good to wake Vernon half an hour before he had to get up for work and, more importantly, breakfast. He hated it being woken when breakfast wasn't ready, and she had just wanted to fetch the milk from the front steps when she had discovered the baby.

However, the baby didn't stop crying, so Petunia closed the door and prayed this would be enough. Vernon could be rather... demanding when he was in a bad mood.

It was when she started to unwrap the baby out of its blanket that she noticed the letter.

An envelope mad of parchment.

Sealed with red wax.

She that down onto the edge of the bathtub.

She knew who the sender of this letter (and presumably the baby, too) was.

But, this was impossible, how could Lily give her child to HER of all people? And WHY?

The last time she had heard from her sister was when a card came by post (mugglepost, fortunately) announcing the birth of a son to Lily and James Potter.

Petunia hadn't replied.

It was too painful to be remembered that she once had a sister she dearly loved. All she had now was a sibling the despised and whom she envied quite a lot. Even so their parents had died a few years before, the treatment she had experienced by their parents after Lily had gotten that damned letter was still too raw in her mind.

Numbly, she opened the letter. And read. It wasn't from Lily. Lily was dead.

Petunia didn't know how she should feel.

Her little sister was dead. Murdered. And, apparently, this still crying baby was hers. Her son. And now, Petunia should care for him. Because Albus Dumbledore, the very man who hadn't done anything for her when she had been a child, who hadn't cared about destroying her life by taking her sister to that stupid school, introducing her family to the wizarding world and leaving Petunia behind, left out, alone, expected her to do so.

This man just had to be mad, Petunia thought.

She had forgotten that she had refused to ever set a foot into this stupid magical shopping center, that she had refused to be present when one of the teachers from that school came over to tell them more about the wizarding world.

As far as Petunia was concerned, they had taken Lily (and her parents attention as well) and ever since Petunia had been the boring, unimportant second-best child who could never do anything good enough to come up to Lily's achievements.

How could they expect her to take that child? Did they believe that she would be grateful for the chance to raise a freak herself, being recognized as a relative of one of THEM?

Did they really believe she would expose her own son, her Dudley, to the same disregard she had experienced?But the letter went on.

_Bloodwards. _

She had never heard of them, but since it seemed to be another freaky thing that wasn't this baby – Lilys child – was in danger of being murdered, too. Had even survived one attempt on its life already.

„Survived to become a nuisance to decent people" She though bitterly.

What was worse, however, was the hint that her – Petunia's – family might be also in danger if she didn't care for the freak.  
This was... disgusting! Threatening her family in order to make her take in that devilish urchin!

Why, pray tell, couldn't those other freaks care for this child on their own? Why had it be her family that was burdened with a boy that seemed to be even more abnormal than an average wi...freak?

She wouldn't take the boy in. Vernon wouldn't approve of it, too.

She wouldn't let those disgusting freaks destroy her life even further, interfering with her own family, using her family to hide a boy who had already been the target of some criminals, and endangering her son and her husband in doing so.

No.

She was about to stand up and waking Vernon, since surely this was more important than some petty grudges about breakfast not being ready, when she became aware of a slight problem.

Or, as she thought, a very big problem.

Their wasn't a return address.

The letter was signed, yes, by this stupid Dumbledore-man nonetheless, but no address, no telephone number, not even a person or authority they could go to if there were any problems.

What were these people thinking? Were they thinking at all?

„Stupid, worthless freak!" She hissed.

At a loss at what to do, Petunia started to rand at the still crying boy.

„Just as attention-seeking as your mother! Be quiet! There is nothing wrong and you should better be grateful that I haven't left you on the doorstep in the first place! Ungrateful cretin!"

„Petunia?"

Oh no. Vernon was up.

Petunia flung the door open and was face to face with her husband.

„Vernon..."

„Petunia, what does this noise mean? Is Duddy ok? Why isn't he sleeping, he never wakes up this early, little tyke." He chuckled

„Vernon... look... this letter... it isn't Duddy..." She stammered and handed Vernon the letter.

„What..." he began, skimming the letter. His expression getting angrier and angrier.

„Pet... Petunia... they can't be serious! We can't take a freak in! He will contaminate Dudley! I won't allow my son to be subjected to the... unnaturalness of such a freak!"

„Vernon but what can we do? He – this man – hasn't written anything about whom we can contact if we don't want to keep him!"

„This... you're right... this..."

„And this man writes something about us being in danger if the boy doesn't stay with us! I don't know, Vernon, but we can't let anybody hurt Duddy!"

„Hurt Dudley?! Nobody will hurt my son! This is... evil! Forcing us to take this freak in OUR home by threatening us that someone might hurting OUR son if we don't do as we are told! This is..." He seemed to be unable to find a fitting expression.

„Yes, Vernon, you are quite right!" Petunia nodded virgiously,"they are stupid, selfish people who don't care whether they ruin someone else' life! I have told you what they have done to my family, to me, such vile people they are! Especially this man who has written the damned letter, evil freak he is!"

She was close to tears now.

„Petunia, Pet, calm down, it'll all be ok! I'll make sure of it! You won't have to suffer again because of those freaks, and Dudley will always know that he is loved, that no freak could ever be nearly as good as he is! We won't allow those freaks to ruin our life!"

„But if he has to stay...?"

„I know, Pet, I know, it won't be fun, but we will manage!"

„But how? I can't be caring for HER child! What if he does... you-know-what? What if he hurts us with it? What if he is mean to Dudley?"

„He won't! I will never allow such freakishness in MY house!"

„But how can we stop it? I don't think there is anything one can do about THIS... Lily never..."

„Oh, I'm sure if handled properly, this urchin won't dare to do anything imprudent!" Now a strange glimmer was in his eyes.

„If he is ever foolish enough to do anything like THIS, he will feel the consequences. I'm sure we will be able to deal with it. We just have to be strict and intransigent. Such a freaky boy needs a strong hand, he mustn't get away with anything! Yes... I think... „

He broke off.

„Vernon? What do you mean?"

„Huh? Ah, Pet, I think I have just found both a solution to our problem and a way to pay these other freaks back for leaving him with us"

„But we can't give him into an orphanag or just kill him, Vernon! If we do so, Dudley will be in danger by those criminal freaks!"

„Nonsens, we won't do any of these thinks! we..."

„But if he stays here, how ir our life not going to be ruined?"

„He stays here, yes, I don't think there is another possibility... perhaps one day one of those people contacts us, than we will give him straight away, but in the meantime we have to deal with him, I think... and we will try our best to get rid of it! If we try hard enough, we might be able to get rid of that freaky stuff in that boy! We only have to treat him accordingly!"

„What do you mean, Vernon?"

„Well, obviously, he has to be punished severely ever time he puts a toe out of line. If he dares to do... freak-stuff... he won't be able to sit properly for a week! Once he is old enough, maybe in two or three years, he can do chores around the house to keep him from getting in trouble and to earn his keep. I don't see why we should provide food and clothes and shelter for him without getting anything in return! Then, he won't get much to eat. After all, if he doesn't have energy, it will be less likely that he does anything... inappropriate. Otherwise... what does a child like him need at all?"

„Well, he needs a room, first of all... then we have to look after him. Dealing with him when he falls ill. Providing all sorts of things... we can't just lock him into the cellar, I think..."

„Hm... but he won't get any more attention than absolutely necessary! I won't allow you being distracted from Dudley! He might feel neglected if this boy gets to much attention!"

„I didn't mean he needs attention,on the contrary, the less he gets the better!" Petunia snapped, „and I would never treat him as I treat Dudley, Dudley will always know that he is the most important child at all! I won't allow ANYONE to treat the freak better than our son!"

„That's my Petunia!" Vernon smiled, „family always comes first! I mean," he corrected himself, "real family, not such... freaks... they can hardly be considered proper family!"

„So...what do we do now?" Petunia asked, gesturing at the STILL crying boy. „He just won't stop crying! Dudley has never been such a nuisance!"

„Well... I think we can just leave the room. Once he notices that all the racket won't get him any attention at all, he will stop. Yes, Petunia, we just have to make it clear that, if he wants to get food or something else, he has to behave. Just think about it like animal training! Perhaps we can even ask Marge what would be the best way to train him properly! After all, she has plenty of experiences in dealing with misbehaving animals!"

As if to emphasize his statement, Vernon turned around and left the room.

„And just turn off Dudley's fan-heater, the freak will be fine, don't see why we should waste energy on him! After all, it isn't as if we get any allowance for caring for the boy! I won't allow those freaks to plunge us into poverty!"

Petunia glanced at the boy. He seemed reasonable warm now, or at least he wasn't shivering any longer.

Deciding that Vernon was right, she was about to switch the heater of when she became aware that one side of the child's face was rather red. It hadn't been so when she had brought him in, had it? Perhaps she should have paid more attention to how close the ch...freak was lying to the fan heater.

But, she thought after a few seconds of doubt, this wasn't Dudley, this wasn't even a real child, this was only a freak.

Any feeling of guilt suppressed, she took the boy in order to leave him in the guest bedroom. She couldn't very well bring him in Dudley's room, as nobody knew what the freak might do to her precious son.

* * *

Dudley didn't become aware that a new child had moved in for quite some time. His parents were very adamant about not letting their son suffer under a freak in any way. And too concerned that the freak might do something that would hurt Dudley or themselves, they tried to avoid as much exposure to Harry as possible.

Of course, Petunia fed him, changed him and gave him a bath every other day, but she was careful not do so when Dudley was in the same room.

This resulted in Harry having to wait until Dudley was taking his nap or was asleep in the evening, and left him with a sore behind (and being hungry quite often) after only a few days with his last remaining relatives.

The crying increased. Since he had been moved to the cupboard under the stairs the second day after his arrival (after Vernon had complained that they couldn't leave him in the guest bedroom for good, after all Marge had to sleep somewhere when she visited every two or three years. And, of course, clearing Dudley's second bedroom was out of question) this was, however, not longer a problem. When you shut the air vent, the cupboard was, surprisingly, rather soundproof.

It was not until after christmas that the boy became quieter.

This was, for such a young child, a very long time and resulted in a very annoyed Vernon phoning Marge several times. She was quick to explain that there were dogs who were rather stubborn and strong-willed and that the only way to break these beasts was to ignore them as much as possible and to punish every unwanted behaviour fiercely.

During January, Harry indeed became quieter and Vernon was pleased that his sister was such an expert when it came to dealing with dogs. (In his opinion, there was hardly any difference between dogs and freaks).

Harry, however, while becoming more and more hopeless as the treatment continued, had another reason for becoming more and more silent and modest. Not only was his headache starting to become less sever, but also was he, somehow, somewhat, not longer alone. Well, not really.

Since being alone is one of the worst experiences for any baby, and, of course, Harry being too young to notice that something about the whole thing was odd, the little child was just grateful when he felt the soothing presence of another being in his head.

From now on, being alone in a dark room didn't seemed so bad anymore.


	2. Becoming Mad

_I don't own Harry Potter. For additional information on this story, please see my profile._

* * *

**Chapter 2 - Becoming mad**

.

It was not until Harry was four that the neighbours of Mr and Mrs Dursley learned of the existence of another boy in Number 4, Privet Drive.

Well, a few close friends of the Dursley's, parents, who had children at a similar age as Dudley and who had met with the Dursley's for playdates and gossiping about mutual acquaintances, had known that Petunia and Vernon, kind-hearted as they were, had taken in their nephew after his parents had died in a car crash. They had rarely met him, though, being told that the boy was somewhat problematic, even disturbed, and that he didn't react well to exposure to too many people at once.

This was, actually, true.

While Harry could hardly be called „problematic", being quiet and undemanding and almost able to make the Dursley's forget about his presence for days, he was, indeed, withdrawn, shy and he rarely spoke (although this might have something to do with being told to be quiet every time he tried to tell his aunt and uncle something). Sometimes the Dursley's even worried that he was, in fact, „disturbed", but until this incidence that drew the attention of the whole neighbourhood to the boy and his family, they were able to pass any unusual behaviour off as freaky, but not worrisome and usually locking the boy into his cupboard was enough to stop him from doing whatever he did.

This changed, however, one afternoon in November, three years after Harry was left with the Dursley's.

* * *

He had been sitting on the floor in the corridor, playing contently with some broken toy soldiers, which he had gotten after Dudley had broken and no longer wanted to have them, and quietly mumbling and murmuring to himself.

This wasn't an unusual occurence, the corridor being one of the few rooms Harry was allowed to stay without supervision and Petunia had long since given up to stop the boy from talking to himself (at least as long as it wasn't to loud any nobody outside the family ever saw him doing it).

Petunia was in the kitchen, preparing dinner, while Dudley stayed with Piers for the afternoon. Mrs Polkiss would bring him back in about half an hour and she wanted to have dinner ready, since her little son was always starved after he played outside all afternoon.

Suddenly, she heard the freaks voice from the corridor, getting louder and louder. Annoyed, she had just decided to let him be (since neither Vernon nor Dudley were present to witness her lenience) and closing the door, when a frightening scream could be heard and a hammering, knocking noise started.

Alarmed at what the boy was doing (he might break something valuable!) she ran into the corridor. It took her a few seconds to take in what she saw there.

Her nephew was sitting on the ground, some of these rubbishy toy soldiers lying nearby, and was beating his head on the floor with seemingly great force. Through the whole incidence, he screamed in a voice that made Petunias blood run cold.

Not really thinking straight, she ran to her nephew and seized him up. The boy tried to fight her, but, being quiet small and thin, it wasn't very difficult for Petunia to carry him into the living room and putting him onto the sofa.

She almost was sick when she saw the damage the boy had done to himself in.

His face was a mess.

Sure, being a parent, Petunia knew that head wounds bled rather heavily, but even considering that this boy was a freak and therefore more durable than an average child (or even her Dudley, who was so sensitive!), she couldn't deny the fact that this child needed a doctor.

And, of course, that this child shouldn't lie on a couch that was only two years old, since the bleeding didn't appear to stop some time soon.

Reluctant to do so, but quite aware that there wasn't much else she could do, she decided to call an ambulance. Vernon would be at work for another one or two hours and she couldn't really wait that long with the boy being in such a state. Besides his obvious injuries, he was still acting as though he was mad (which, Petunia thought, he probably was), although she had to admit, he became quieter by the minute.

Never having called an ambulance before, Petunia wasn't prepared to answer questions about what had happened. And even if she had known, how could she have explained the injuries of the boy without being truthful? If she wasn't, they might suspect SHE had beaten the boy into such a state!

Therefore, she told the lady that her nephew had acting oddly and had hit his head against the floor rather hard, and was now bleeding and crying and somewhat hysteric.

5 minutes later, the ambulance came and it was then that the whole street learned of Harry's existence.

Just a few seconds after the paramedics had halted in front of Number 4 and had entered the house, the first nosy neighbours ran on the street to goggle. It wasn't every day that an ambulance was seen in this part of the town, and when the paramedics reappeared with a small, bloody boy, lying on a stretcher and a sour looking Petunia walking behind them, the entire residents of Privet Drive, and a large amount of the streets nearby, had gathered on the street and saw the small child being taken to hospital.

Petunia had tried to soothe Harry, not wanting to look bad (well, not worse than she would look anyway) in the eyes of the paramedics. When the doorbell rang, she had managed to calm Harry down enough that he wasn't screaming any longer, though now he had started crying (which wasn't very surprising, given the fact that his head must hurt a lot)

She led the paramedics to the living room and anxiously stepped aside when they tried to get the boys attention, asked him what his name was and began to treat him. One of the three men that had come, however, turned to her.

„What has happened?"

„That f... boy... Harry... he was playing just like every day, but then he started to bang his head against the floor! I don't know why, or what has happened before, I was just in the kitchen. He has never acted like this or I wouldn't have left him alone one moment! I don't know... why did he do such a thing to himself?"

„Well ok, I think you should talk to the doctors in hospital about all of this."

„Hospital? Can't you just treat him here?"

„I don't think this would be wise, the child should be monitored for at least 48 hours." The paramedic gave Petunia a strange look

„After all, he might have done some damage to his brain."

„You think he is brain-damaged?" Petunia squeaked

„I don't know... wait... Josh, how is the boy?"

„What? We have to take him to hospital as soon as possible. This head wound is nasty, and he seemed to be dazed, I won't risk him having a brain haemorrhage... Harry? Can you just lie still for a moment? I have to put a needle into your arm so that we can give you something that will made you feel better."

Harry didn't respond, he seemed to be rather sleepy.

„Harry please try to stay awake, this is really important! This will hurt a little bit now, but I promise you will feel better very soon! - Wil, please try to hold his arm still"

Wil, the third paramedic, did as his colleague asked him to and Harry gave hardly any sign that he registered that a needle was put into his vein. This wasn't good. A child that didn't cry and protested when he was pricked wasn't a good sign at all. Worried, Josh injected the boy a pain-reliever and, together with Wil, put him on the stretcher they had brought in.

„Mrs Dursley, please come, we need to go to the hospital quickly" Asked the paramedic who had talked to Petunia before.

„I have to come with the f...the boy?" Petunia asked, distressed.

„My son will be at home any minute, I can't just leave. He will be upset if I'm not here when his friend's mother brings him home!"

„Mrs Dursley, I think one of your neighbours can take care of you son, until you can arrange otherwise, but your nephew needs you now and besides the doctors in hospital need someone who can answer questions about the boy!"

And with that, the paramedic followed his colleagues to the front door, and Petunia had no choice as to do as she was told.

* * *

When they arrived at the hospital, Petunia didn't really know what to do. So she decided to wait outside the emergency room, since she could hardly do anything while the freak was treated, could she?

However, after a few minutes a nurse asked her to come inside and whether she didn't want to stay with her son.

„This isn't my son, it's my nephew!" Petunia snapped, rather embarrassed that she was thought to be the mother of such a freaky, mad child.

The nurse gave her a glance. „Well, yes, wouldn't you like to stay with your nephew? I'm sure he is rather distressed being alone and in pain."

„I suppose..." Petunia answered, and was immediately led into the emergency room where she saw Harry lying on an examination table, stripped down to the pants (which Petunia wished weren't quite as dreadful as they looked. But who could have known that they would be seen by other people when she told the boy to put them on this morning!)

„Ah, Mrs Dursley?"

One of the white-dressed people came to her. „We need to x-ray your son" (Petunia just managed to stop herself from snapping again. After all, it wouldn't do to let the people know how she felt about the boy. Well, if she felt something at all), „and then we would like to make a CT, just to be sure that he hasn't done any damage to his brain. You have to sign a form, though."

„Yes, yes!"

„Ok, then perhaps Nurse Anne can give you the forms while Harry is brought to the CT, you can't accompany him I'm afraid but he will be back right away!"

„Ok, so where do I have to sign"

„Right here." This was the nurse who had Petunia forced to enter the room. „And if you don't mind here are some other forms you would need to sign. Has your NEPHEW ever been in this hospital before?"

„No, never" Petunia answered distracted, being busy signing forms.

„Ok than you need to fill out this, too, I'm afraid."

15 minutes later, Petunia had worked her way to an unbelievable amount of forms and just signed the last one when Harry reappeared, still lying on the exam table and being pushed by a doctor.

„Surely it can't be so bad?" Petunia thought, „is just too lazy to walk, the freak!"

„Mrs Dursley, the neurologist isn't quite finished with analyzing the pictures, but we're rather sure that your nephew was extremely lucky and hasn't done any serious harm to his head. Well, apart from the superficial wounds.

However, we would like to keep him under close supervision for at least 48 hours since he is rather dozy and doesn't respond to some stimuli like he should. You can stay with him, of course, there are special rooms on the children ward where an adult can stay overnight with the child."

Petunia, being quite aware that her previous behaviour was, at best, questionable, decided that there really wasn't a choice. Therefore, she let the doctor lead her through some doors until they reached the children ward.

„Helen, we're here!" The doctor called, „which room is the boy's with the head injury?"

„Oh hey" a young blonde woman appeared in a doorway, „just here, come on. I'm nurse Helen, you must be Mrs Dursley! And this is your son? What is his name?"

„Ah, yes, my nephew, actually, and his name is Harry"

„Ok well, I have heard you'll stay with us for the next couple of days? Well, I'm sure you'll be up and about in no time at all!" She spoke to Harry, who, however, gave no sign at having heard her.

The boy had yet to say a word, after he had stopped screaming back at Privet Drive he was alarmingly quiet.

„You're sure he hasn't gotten any serious injuries inside his head?" Nurse Helen asked the doctor, who was leafing through a file, apparently Harry's.

„Hu? Yes, we have made two scans. Both seemed to be normal. However, the neurologist is looking at the pictures just now, but I'm quite sure we haven't overlooked anything. Perhaps he is in shock or just overwrought by anything that has happened. Well, the I suppose I should leave, goodby Mrs Dursley, it was nice to see you, goodby Harry!" He waved and went away.

„Ah, sorry, Nurse Helen, I really have to phone my husband, he doesn't know that something has happened, and my son, he was with a friend when this, eh, accident happened, I have to phone the mother to tell her Vernon, my husband, will collect the Duddy as soon as he comes home from work."

„Sure, there is a phone box just in the entrance hall, I'm sure Harry and I will manage while you're away!"

A few minutes later Petunia was back, having told a rather shocked Vernon what had happened.

Oh, he wasn't shocked that the freak – Harry – had to stay in hospital, but his Petunia apparently had to stay there as well, so who would look after Dudley now?

And, worst of all, the freak seemed to have gotten crazy. He couldn't allow someone who was not only a freak but also mad to stay near his son! Who know what that... unnatural creature might do to poor Dudley!

Petunia had promised to try to contact one of these freaks once she was out of hospital, but for the next several days there didn't seem to be a choice at what to do.

Later, Petunia got permission (honestly, she was an adult who had the misfortune to be related to such a boy, and she had to get permission to leave him for an hour or so, as if he wasn't used to staying alone!) to go home in order to get some things she (or the boy) might need.

The nurses had been surprised that her husband couldn't bring anything to the hospital, but in the end they didn't argue with the woman who was acting rather strange.

Well, perhaps it was just the shock that her nephew had been hurt?

* * *

Harry, meanwhile, was confused.

He knew his head hurt quite a lot, bot otherwise he was just fine. Well, apart from that strange voice. It was more a humming now, though. Somewhere in the background, but easily to ignore (at least if you had some experience, and that Harry had). Harry knew that voice, of course, it had been there as long as he could remember, and he had gotten used to the presence of someone else in his mind. At some point he had become aware that apparently nobody else could hear the voice, so it couldn't be another human like Aunt Petunia or Dudley, Harry supposed. But perhaps there weren't enough bodies so that some people had to share one? However, he had long since stopped worrying about it and sometimes he was even grateful for its presence. It would have been rather lonely in his cupboard if the voice hadn't been there. He had gone into the habit of talking with the voice, even when it sometimes told Harry strange stuff, like killing people.

It had never before been this loud and violent as earlier today, though. It had been rather distracting, particularly when some men had poked and pricked him and tried to speak to him. He had been somewhat aware that he should probably answer them, but this noise in his head was just too loud and he hadn't been able to fight it off. Well, they had left him alone after some time, so perhaps he hadn't done anything wrong. After all, if he didn't obey Aunt Petunia or Uncle Vernon, they never left him be but demanded that he did as he was told, no matter whether voluntarily or not (Harry had learned, however, that it was better to do things the first time they asked, since it was the only way to avoid having to go hungry for the day)

Now, he was apparently lying in a soft, clean bed and there were a lot of people dressed in white clothes who seemed to be rather nice. They certainly smiled a lot.

Perhaps he was dead and this were angels?

He didn't know much about angels, but he had heard that they were supposed to be nice and all. So surely he must be dead, normal people just couldn't be that friendly.

This thought, both frightening and comforting at the same time, however, was banished when Aunt Petunia appeared at the side of one of these angels.

Or was she dead, too?

He hoped not, since Uncle Vernon would be really, REALLY mad if he had killed his aunt. And an annoyed Vernon normally hurt a lot.

* * *

For Harry, the next two days where a bliss. He got to lie in a soft, clean bed the whole day, he got to eat three times every day and all the nurses (he had learned they were nurses, no angels, rather soon after Aunt Petunia had appeared) were very, very nice. They spoke to him without snapping, they called him „Harry", which had been a very rare occurence when he had lived with only the Dursley's, and they asked him whether he wanted some toys, crayons or watching TV.

He had been unsure whether he was allowed to do so, since normally, only Dudley was permitted to watch TV. However, Dudley wasn't here, and after he had declined the first few offers (after a look to Aunt Petunia), his Aunt had hissed at him (when there wasn't a nurse in the vicinity) that he was to act like a normal boy and to do what the nurses asked him. From then on, he had accepted the offers, although he still was worried what might happen when the nurses found out that he wasn't a normal boy, but a freak, and therefore not supposed to watch TV or to colour.

A doctor came to him a few times each day, asked him how his head was and whether or not he felt dizzy. A few times he had spoken to Aunt Petunia, too, but they had both gone out of the room and therefore Harry didn't know whether he had done anything wrong. His aunt looked rather angry after some of these talks, but she never told him what was going on. She never slapped him, either, so it couldn't be so bad, Harry supposed.

* * *

Petunia had two horrible days.

After she had returned from collecting some clothes, she had to stay with the freak ALL the time. Well, she supposed that the hospital staff couldn't really force her to stay, but she had noticed that all the other children on this ward were accompanied by at least one adult all the time. It would look quite bad if she didn't stay with the boy, and she didn't want to risk that the nurses or doctors started to suspect that something was wrong with the boys family. (Of course there was not, it was the boy who was wrong, but these idiots working in this hospital seemed unable to see that)

The doctor who was in charge of Harry had wanted to speak to her a few times, and this talks hadn't been pleasant, either. She could convince him that Harry had in fact hurt himself, well, there hadn't really been any doubt, but, as the doctor pointed out (several times), they just had to make sure that the little chappie had a decent home life and was well-cared for. Petunia, being well aware of some of the recent news about a child who had been abused and the doctor who had treated it several times not doing anything about it (and who was currently being tried for aiding the abuse), assured the doctor that she wasn't offended at all, on the contrary, that she was grateful that this hospital was apparently taking the welfare of children serious (which was, in fact, a good thing to know, if her Dudley should at some point being hurt by the freak) and that she would have done anything to prevent little Harry from hurting himself at all.

The doctor, impressed by Aunt Petunias sincere claims and her obvious love for the little boy, recommended to see a psychiatrist or at least a children therapist, since it wasn't normal for a child to hurt himself this severe. While the doctor knew that there were many children who tended to pull their hair or chew on their nails, he had never had a case of self injury this sever and at such a young age. Surely something most be wrong with the boy to act in such a manner.

Petunia agreed, hesitantly, but who could blame her for this, there were hardly any parents who reacted well to their child having a mental disorder. The doctor, glad to be able to do something to help this nice woman, talked to his colleague on the psychiatric ward for children, which was, conveniently, in the same hospital, and so it was that, three days after the „incident"and at the same day as Harry was released, Petunia had to bring Harry to the psychiatrist Dr Green.

She was rather annoyed when, instead of just being told when she could collect the boy, she was asked to enter the room as well. She just hoped that nobody of the neighbours had seen her enter THIS ward!

Although, she admitted to herself, it was quite likely that all her neighbours were aware that something has happened to the boy, having seen the ambulance and the paramedics. And, to be honest, it was much better to be known as a caring relative of a mentally disturbed boy than to be known as an abuser (which she wasn't, of course! It was only natural to treat you nephew differently than you own son, and since this was a freak-nephew he NEEDED special treatment if he wanted to become normal, one day! Yes, she was doing a good deed!)

After being offered a cup of tea and a few awkward moments of silence, the interrogation (or this what Petunia would later call an interrogation at least), began.

How long had Harry been with her? What happened to his parents? Was he injured in the car crash as well, a head injury perhaps? Had he needed psychological help after that tragedy? How got he along with his cousin? Did Harry know that he wasn't the child but the nephew of Petunia? How got he along with Vernon? How had the relationship between Petunia and Harry's mother been? How had the relationship of the two of them to their own parents had been? When did he start to walk? Until which age had he worn nappies?

And it went on and on. Petunia hadn't been aware that there were so many possibilities why a child could become mad. However, it seemed that she was able to answer all the questions to the psychiatrist satisfaction and it only became uncomfortable when the doctor asked whether Harry had acted this way for the first time or if there had been other incidents when he had injured himself, or if he had ever shown any kind of unusual behaviour before.

„Well, I suppose, yes...yes, he had acted strange, sometimes. Compared to Dudley, at least..."

„What do you mean? What has he done?"

„Well, he tends... he tends to talk to himself quite a lot. I mean, I never thought anything about it, since many little children talk to cuddly toys or imaginary friends or something like this, but perhaps... well, I don't know, but perhaps it has something to do with him banging his head like this..." She looked to Harry who was happily playing with some blocks in a corner of the room.

„Yes, you are quite right, it isn't uncommon for young children to talk to no one in particular, but of course, in Harry's case it could be a further sign for a severe mental illness... Anything more? Hm, did he ever seemed to zoom out? Perhaps just sitting at a place without doing anything and giving no sign of reaction to anybody else?"

„Yes! He does that a lot! I wasn't aware that it was relevant, I just assumed he was kind of daydreaming so..."

„Well, its a behaviour many children show, however, it can be a symptom of some mental illnesses, too."

„Oh, right... then... then you think he... Harry... is ill? I mean, mentally?"

„Well, it's difficult to tell at such a young age, it could just be a a result to the traumatic event when he lost his parents... yes, Dr Smith told me about it, I'm really sorry! So, his behaviour doesn't necessarily mean that he is mentally ill, perhaps it was a one-time occurence and the other stuff, like talking to imaginary friends, will go away on its own. However, since this act of self injury was rather violent and could easily lead to serious harm if ever being repeated, I would recommend that Harry seeing me once a month, for the time being. So I will be able to observe him and check him for any signs that his mental state is getting worse, and we can hopefully prevent another such an incident Would that be all right with you? Of course, I need you or your husband coming with him, after all, Harry is only a little child and I won't be able to work with him alone, without the support of his guardians."

„Oh, ehm yes, I need to talk this through with my husband, but since it would be in, eh, Harry's best interest I don't think he'll have anything against this course of actions. Perhaps I could phone you next week?"

„Of course, of course, there isn't any hurry, just phone me when you have talked to your husband and then we can make another appointment!"

* * *

Petunia was very glad to be back home. She had missed her little Duddybums a lot and it had been quite strenuous to keep herself from snapping at the boy or just tell the doctors and nurses that she didn't care whether or not the boy was healthy and that she wanted him to be released immediately.

Being aware that it was only due to the fact that she had cooperated with the doctors that they hadn't talked to anyone from child service, though, and also because Petunia and Vernon feared what a mad freak might do to their little Dudley (or their reputation amongst the neighbours), Petunia kept her promise and phoned Dr Green the following week. They agreed that Petunia (Vernon had to work, of course!) would come with Harry to Dr Green every first Thursday each month and that any unusual behaviour from Harry would be reported to the doctor in order to find out whether or not Harry needed more support or medical aid.

Harry, meanwhile, was somewhat disappointed to be back in his cupboard, but at least he had been allowed to keep the stuffed teddy his aunt had given him while he was in hospital. He wasn't entirely sure why he suddenly was allowed such a thing (normally, only Dudley got cuddly toys and his aunt and uncle had told him more than once that only good boys were allowed toys), but he was grateful nevertheless and just hoped his aunt wouldn't demand it back. Perhaps if he hid it into his cupboard she wouldn't remember having it given to him...?

After he had accompanied Aunt Petunia to a man to whom she talked while he was allowed to play with the most amazing toys, she had hardly said something to him at all. He was a little worried what he might have done wrong, but figured that asking would be a very, very bad idea. He wasn't stupid, after all, and he had learnt that he wasn't supposed to ask questions long before he could even speak properly.

After a few days, life was almost be back to normal. Harry was tormented by Dudley, his aunt snapped at him and his uncle, while mostly ignoring him (and giving him strange glances all of the time, which Harry found rather odd), slapped him several times for being a freak. Harry didn't really know what a freak was but it wasn't pleasant to be one. But, he supposed, it was just like being a fly. A fly couldn't help being one, it just had to put up with it and try to avoid being swatted if it wanted to survive. So Harry just had to duck every time he could and being as invisible as possible and there wouldn't be a problem, would there?

Therefore, Harry was very surprised when, much later, his aunt told him that they were to go to that man they had visited after Harry had to stay in the hospital. Since Petunia looked as if she really, really didn't want to go, he was a little afraid that she might punish him for it, but she didn't do anything.

Being there, Harry was allowed to play AGAIN and only just before he left with his aunt the man asked him how he was and whether or not he had hurt himself again. After a questioning glance to his aunt, Harry told the man that he was fine and that he didn't like being hurt. The grip of his aunt tightened while he said so, though, and he decided that it would be a good thing not to say anything more.

The man asked why, if he didn't like being hurt, he had hurt himself the other week. But even if Harry hadn't decided to stay quiet, he would not have been able to answer that question. What was this man talking about? Perhaps he was somehow confused? This would explain why his aunt didn't seem to like him very much, Harry was quite aware that any kind of person who didn't behave as he should was some kind of monster in the eyes of his relatives.

After Harry and his aunt had visited the strange man several times more, Harry became accustomed to it. After all, it wasn't that bad, he got to play a lot and even when the man would ask him some weird questions, he was usually able to tell him something he seemed to like, since he tended to smile when Harry had said something. Of course, sometimes he looked worried too, for example when Harry had asked him whether every person had his own body, or when Harry talked with the voice in his head while being at the man. He had been distracted and forgotten that the man was even there, and he had begged the voice to be silent when it had been quite vicious and hurting, and unfortunately the doctor must have hurt him. At first Harry had worried that the man would now realize that he, Harry, was a freak, but his behaviour never changed and he was as nice and kind as ever.


	3. The in-between

_I do not own Harry Potter_

_Thank you for all the reviews, favourites and alerts! I was amazed at the response I got so far and have been sitting in front of my computer grinning like a loon^^_

_A quick note because yourmotherseyes asked, yes, Harry will go to Hogwarts eventually. However, the first wizards won't appear until chapter 7 or 8!  
I'm not quite happy with this chapter, but I had to include many information and explanations in order to make sense of the further plot. However, I hope you'll like it anyway!  
_

_._

* * *

**Chapter 3 - The in-between**

„But there HAS to be a way, Petunia!"

„Vernon, we have tried everything! We have sent several letters to this... to Dumbledore but either there is no wi... freak working with the royal mail any more or the old man just refuses to send a reply! And we have been at the old house of my parents five times already, and there is no Snape-family around anymore! He was the only one I knew from that lot, well, apart from Lily and her bloody husband of course, and if we can't locate him how do you think we should contact one of those freaks?"

„We have to find a way, Petunia, we just have to! The boy can't stay here any more, I won't allow it, last time he almost hurt Dudley! I won't let your freak-nephew harm my son!"

„He is my son, too" snapped Petunia, „and I know we have to do something, but I don't know any other way to contact one of THEM! I would be just as glad as you when we would get rid of the freak, but we can't just abandon him on the streets of London! The doctor would ask questions, the school would ask questions, and if THEY ever get to know what we have done to the freak they will make our life hell! You have seen the letter Dumbledore left with the boy!"

„You have told me that there is some kind of freaky shopping centre in London, why can't we leave the boy there? Surely one of those freaks will find him and take him in!"

„I don't know where the entrance to this alley is located, Vernon. I have told you, I never was there when my parents and … my sister went. I wish I would have, but who could have known that it would come to this...?" Petunia looked defeated.

„I just can't bear the thought that he might hurt Dudley... Petunia, I know you aren't to blame for the mess, it's entirely the fault of those freaks that our son is in mortal danger, the neighbours are whispering about us and you have to go to that shrink every other week! But I just can't help... I'm so sorry, Pet, I don't know what to do, there just has to be a way to get out of this mess..."

###

It wasn't the first time Vernon and Petunia were arguing about possibilities to contact a wizard.

After Harry's first incident one and a half year previously, they both had hoped that it was a one time thing and that giving the boy chores would keep him too busy to allow anything strange coming into his mind. Additionally, though Petunia would never admit it, she had been somehow grateful that Harry (well, and Petunia herself) was seeing Dr Green once a month. After all, he was a specialist. He would be able to prevent any further incidents, wouldn't he?

The first few month after the stay in the hospital, all went well. Harry still talked to himself, but he had done this since he started speaking, and Petunia had long since put up with it. In truth, she had considered that perhaps the boy was doing it because nobody else spoke to him. Well, of course she told him what chores he had to do and that he should go to his cupboard when he messed anything up, but she had to admit that this couldn't really be compared to the way she spoke with her Dudley.

And since Vernon wasn't at home most of the time the boy was outside his cupboard, she had never seen any reason to tell him about the boy talking to himself. It would only upset her husband, and he had already enough on his plate, poor Vernon. Having to deal with a freak in the house, Petunia was used to it, it wasn't pleasant, but it was something you had to endure, there could nothing be done about it. But for Vernon it must be pure hell!

It hasn't stayed this way, so. One morning, when Petunia had woken her nephew, he had a a nasty bump and bruises on his forehead. After she had screamed to him for about 5 minutes he admitted that he had hit his head on the wall. (Well, that someone had hit his head against the wall, but since nobody else could have done it, it was clear that the boy had done it himself and was just a lying freak!) That afternoon, they visited Dr Green despite it being two weeks early. The doctor had tried to coax Harry to tell him why he had hurt his head, but Harry had only mumbled that he was really, really sorry and that he wouldn't do it again.

But he had.

And not only banging his head like a loon, but he had also started to scratch his skin until it was red and bloody and on top of all of this, he had started to scream without apparent reason. He would just start to wail and screech and shout and his voice would adopt a strange, frightening, almost inhuman tone.

The situation seemed to get worse with every month.

Harry's „episodes" would occur more and more frequently and his aunt and uncle were annoyed, desperate and rather stressed.

Fortunately, Dudley had started pre-school only a few weeks after Harry's first incident, and therefore he wasn't forced to watch to much of this madness. He had, however, already witnessed at least two screamings and one attempt of Harry to bang his head on the table, which had been prevented by his aunt since she had been standing directly behind her nephew.

Petunia had spoken with her son, told him that the other boy was crazy and perhaps dangerous and that Dudley should stay as far away from him as possible. She had told him how really, really sorry she was that she could not get rid of the boy, but that she would make up for it with double ice-cream and presents every weekend.  
Dudley, who hadn't really been bothered by the strange behaviour of his cousin (he knew a cartoon that featured a crazy madman who regularly tried to kill the hero, but the hero always won and managed to kill or hurt or at least capture the madman!) had happily accept the ice cream and the presents and never paid much attention to the freak in the cupboard.

* * *

Of course, Harry and his aunt were visiting Dr Green much more frequently now. Harry would go to him every week, and every second week Petunia would accompany him. Even Vernon had be forced to come with Petunia at one point, but fortunately the doctor seemed to sense how uncomfortable he was (talking to a shrink!) and hadn't requested his presence anymore. Dr Green had wanted to see Dudley, too, but his parents had be very adamant that this would never happen! Their poor son had already enough to deal with, he wouldn't be exposed to a doctor for the mentally ill! Nobody could know what effects this might have on poor poor Duddy!

Dr Green had tried to explain that it was in Dudley's best interest, to see how he coped with the behaviour of his cousin and to make sure that he was healthy himself. Predictably though, the Dursley's weren't convinced but quite determined to protect their little son from any and every nut doctor!

For a few month now, Harry also took medicine. Dr Green had been reluctant at first, prescribing a child that young psychopharmaca wasn't something he usually did. However, Harry had hurt himself more and more frequently and he hadn't really seen any other way.  
The child didn't talk very much to him, he usually just played with great enthusiasm (Dr Green couldn't know that Harry hadn't any toys to play with at home. For Harry, going to Dr Green had therefore become one of his favourite activities once he was sure that his aunt wouldn't punish him for playing.) and sometimes talked to himself. Dr Green had tried to make sense of the words the boy muttered, but most of them were impossible to understand or weren't words at all (like „muggle"... honestly, what on earth should that mean?) and the rest also didn't make sense! Sometimes the boy only begged some invisible being to „stop", and it was rather distressing only to witness what was obviously going on in the boys head. For the boy himself, though, it must be torture!

When the boy had talked, though, it had been quite alarming. There had been hints that he was convinced that some kind of „demon" was in his head, who was the one who hurt him.

Well, this last bit was actually one of the reasons for the decision to prescribe the boy a low dose of Phenergan, one of the most common antipsychotics for children. Well, it wasn't really for children, but it was one of the few drugs that Dr Green knew were regularly given to children who had developed a psychosis.

And this was what he supposed Harry was doing, or would soon be doing.

There simply couldn't be any other explanation for his behaviour.

Talking to himself, apparently rather violent and paranoid stuff happening in his imagination, hurting himself in a very unusual way, becoming catatonic for several minutes (or even more), yelling and screaming for no apparent reason, being distrusting,...

The exclamation of the boy that someone else was hurting him had at first taken the doctor by surprise. Harry had yelled (which was very unusual in itself) that „he" was hurting him. Taken aback by the outburst of the normally quiet and shy boy, the doctor had needed a few seconds to collect himself and make sense of what the boy had told him, well, yelled at him. When he had asked the boy who „he" was. He hadn't replied, though.

Actually, this statement of the boy had led to him demanding to see Mrs Dursley's husband, too. He didn't really believe that Harry was abused, but he had to make sure. Mrs Dursley seemed rather nice and caring, at least compared to other parents he was seeing regularly, but he wouldn't take any chances.

Mr Dursley had been extremely uncomfortable, but while he had admitted that he was somewhat worried about the boys behaviour and sometimes even frightened of him, there had been no indication that he was hurting Harry in any way or doing anything at all that could be considered abusive.

Therefore, the only reasonable course of action was to treat the boy against psychosis. The medication would, with some luck, prevent Harry from getting worse, and he might even be completely healthy in a few years time. Of course there were risked attached to drugging a child with rather strong psychopharmacas, but surely it would be worth it if it prevented the child from becoming a permanent resident in a closed ward, wouldn't it?

And really seemed to help the poor boy! He had become more quiet, wasn't so restless any more, and there seemed to be fewer incidents of self harm since he had started taking Phenergan. They still happened, yes, and Mrs Dursley complained regularly that these incidents were affecting the relationship to her husband (and were also the reason why Petunia had tried to contact ANY wizard, but without success, so far. However, Dr Green wasn't aware of THIS particularly problem, and would probably be unable to help anyway), but they didn't occur as frequently as they had before the boy had started taking drugs anymore, and surely this was a progress!

And since Harry had started school the previous summer, it was very important for him not to act like mad too often, since it would disturb his schooling.

* * *

It was true, Harry had started school, actually a few weeks before Dr Green has prescribed him the antipsychotics, and the teachers were glad he had done so.

Mrs Dursley had talked to them before her nephew was supposed to go to school for the first time, about him behaving strange, being quite troublesome sometimes, and also about his self harm. The teachers, having dealed with many difficult children before, hadn't really been bothered by the explanations of his aunt, but it certainly explained why her own son, who had already attended pre-school and therefore was well known amongst the teachers, behaved this badly. Obviously it was a cry for attention since his cousin would get all the attention from his parents at home because of being mentally unstable. Poor Dudley, he didn't seem to have an easy life.

The first few days of Harry's schooling had been quite unproblematic. In fact, the teachers had been somewhat surprised that this shy, meek and quiet little boy should be the troublesome kid they had expected. They had almost started to doubt Petunias claims about him being mentally ill and thought that perhaps she had told them this in order to distract from her own son's behaviour, when they were shaken awake rather violently.

It had been about two weeks into term and the class of first years was supposed to try writing some letters they had just learned. The teacher, Mrs Davis, was just helping one of the girly who had trouble writing the „S" when she heard a loud noise from the back of the classroom, followed by several screams of obviously frightened children.

„What's the matter? You are supposed to write you S'es and E's!"

„Mrs Davis, Mrs Davis, Harry...!" More information wasn't needed because another bang made it clear what was happening.

„Harry, stop this at once!" The boy didn't seem to hear her at all and just continued to hammer his head on the table. It was a sickening noise. The children who had been sitting near him started to clamber away from the boy, frightened.  
„Harry, no! It's enough, you are disturbing everybody! Stop this!" She had grabbed the little boy who already had an angry looking bump on his forehead and decided it would be the best to bring him away from the other children.  
„You stay here. I will take care of Harry and being right back! Just continue to practice your S'es and E's! And no talking!" She turned round and left the classroom, pulling Harry (who appeared to be in some sort of daze) along. She brought the boy straightly to the school nurse.

###

„Karen! What's the matter? Oh, hello, and you are...?"

„Sue, little Harry... well,"

„Oh I can see, not to worry, not to worry, it's a nasty bump but we will fix this in an instant! What have you done young man?"

„Sue, he hit his head on the table. Purposely."

„Oh. Why did you do such a thing, Harry?" Of course, the boy didn't answer.

„Sue, I really don't know much, the aunt of him – he lives with his aunt and uncle and cousin Dudley, his parents died a few years ago - well, she told me that the boy – Harry – was somehow... disturbed... he is going to a specialist for almost a year but apparently it is getting worse. I don't know, he has behaved well so far, but today he just started... we were practicing writing and I was just helping little Emily when I heard this terrible noise! The other children were quite frightened! I really have to go back to calm them down, can't have flocks of parents complaining about their children having nightmares because of a classmate... you take care of him? It would probably be the best to phone his aunt..."

„Of course, of course dear, I'll manage. Harry, you just stay with me for now and I will look at your forehead and stay with you until your aunt can fetch you, yes?" At least, the boy give some sign that he had noticed that somebody was talking to him, even it it were only a slightly confused look at the nurse.

This was how Petunia had to come to fetch Harry from school for the first time, the first time of many more. She had been furious when the nurse had called her, however, after talking to her and she being more worried than disapproving about the boys behaviour, she had calmed down considerably. At least the nurse didn't look at her with disdain (it was a disgrace, having such a nephew!) or, even worse, suggested that the boy may need home-schooling! Imagine, having the boy around the whole day again when she had been so grateful that she would no longer have to put up with him for more than a few hours each day, and additionally having to teach him stuff he was too stupid to understand anyway,... a nightmare!

* * *

Not long after this incident (and after two more at Privet Drive), Dr Green hat prescribed the antipsychotics.

And Harry got better. Well, he didn't get worse, at least.

He became more confident also, but this was attributed to going to school, which he rather liked (well, except the breaks when Dudley and his friends tormented him). Vernon and Petunia didn't like that, though. A freak who talked back! But since both Dr Green and the teachers (with whom the Dursley's, or at least Petunia, were forced to hold regularly conferences regarding Harry and his quirks) approved of it, there wasn't really anything they could do about it.

The initial delight of the teachers, however, turned into disapproval when Harry became more and more reluctant to follow simple orders or to stay put on his chair during lessons. When the boy yelled swear words at his maths teacher for the first time, he received his first detention and Petunia another phone call.

But all things considered, things were looking up (although Vernon still tried to shield his son from the „mad freak" whenever possible), and misbehaviour was far easier to be dealed with than this mad screaming or even the self-injuries. And, of course, Harry's troublesome behaviour, together with HIM being the one who had to take psychopharmacas in order not to went mad and HIM having to go to a psychiatrist every other week, Dudley's misbehaviour paled somewhat in comparison, for which Petunia was rather grateful.

But neither the Dursley's, nor Dr Green or the teachers had a clue about the things going on inside the boys head.

###

The thing in Harry's head was restless. It had noticed the attack posed by the medicine, and tried to fight it (and causing the boy quite a headache while doing so), tried to take control once more. Sometimes it would achieve its goal, but never for long, never long enough to capture the body...

The thing had no real awareness, no real consciousness, no knowledge about the reason of its existence, its host.

But it had a strong desire to destroy, to hurt, to kill.

Harry felt dizzy. He always felt dizzy since had started taking these awful tasting medicine. He didn't really know why he had to take medicine that made him feel sick in the first place, but when he had refused to take it one morning, Aunt Petunia had yelled and slapped him and had threatened that, if he didn't take it voluntarily, they would go to the doctor and he would get an injection. So Harry had taken it, he didn't want to have injection. Injection hurts.

Harry wasn't stupid, he knew that the adults thought he was crazy. They tried not to say it out loud, at least not when he was in the vicinity, but in school, some of his classmates (including his cousin, Dudley) had picked up cornering him during lunch break and taunting him about having to go to a nut doctor.  
And then he had heard Aunt Petunia talking to his teacher about him being not in his right mind didn't understand this, though, he was rather sure that it wasn't he who was in the wrong mind, but a wrong mind was in HIS mind. And he thought it rather unfair that he was laughed at and even had to take disgusting medicine because of this wrong mind. The demon. It was certainly evil and terrifying enough to be a demon. Harry knew what a demon was since he had started to peek into the living room when Dudley and his friends were there, watching TV. The demons always got killed, though perhaps it was better not to tell anyone that a demon was in his head? They might decide to kill him, too.

He would really like th demon, or the other mind, or whatever it was, to go away. But it didn't. It had been there as long as he could remember, and he had never thought much about it, at least until that time that the wrong mind had hurt him and as a result he had to go to that nut doctor. Oh, the doctor had lots of toys and Harry really liked playing with them, but sometimes the doctor asked strange questions. He didn't like that. And after he had learned that the doctor wasn't a normal doctor, but a nut doctor, he liked it even less.

It was the nut doctor who has made him taking the medicine. Why did a doctor give Harry stuff that resulted in him feeling tired and dizzy and all woozy in his head? Wasn't a doctor someone who should made you feel better and not worse?

To Harry, it didn't make sense. Unfortunately for Harry, it did to the adults.


	4. Killing him or killing himself?

_I don't own Harry Potter_

_Next chapter, a bit more action, hope you like it! Thanks for all reviews and alerts, I really, really appreciate it that people take the time to read my stuff!_

* * *

**Chapter 4 - Killing him or killing himself?**

.

Harry was 9 when the thing – the wrong mind, like he used to call it – launched an attack that almost killed him.

Harry had thrown a tantrum, well, he had yelled and shouted, anyway, and from Petunia's point of few, such behaviour was unacceptable. At least for a freak. Therefore, the boy was confined to his cupboard, and neither Petunia nor Vernon would be able to tell what exactly had happened. And Harry never remembered much about the incident, only that the voice in his head suddenly started to scream, stopped him from breathing properly and then all he felt was pain.

The scream that alerted Petunia and Vernon that something was wrong was nothing like they had ever heard, although Harry's screams when he was acting mad had always been frightening. At first, they thought there son was playing one of his more violent computer games. But then words could be heard amongst the screams and they were QUITE certain they had never bought Dudley a game that...

"KILL... TEARING TO PIECES...FINALLY STRONG ENOUGH... DISMEMBER... CARVING INTO FLESH... NO ONE WHO TRIES TO STOP ME WILL LIVE... POWER, GAIN POWER AND KILL MUGGLES... NO ONE IS MORE POWERFUL THAN ME... I AM COMING BACK... NOW..."

When they reached the cupboard (where else could it come from than from the freak?) the words had stopped and all that could be heard was a high-pitched scream, some snippets of... laughter? … and a noise as if the someone – Harry – was trying to bring the house down.

Throwing the door of the cupboard open, the two adults stopped dead. They would never forget the sight of the boy – was it the boy, the freak, at all? - running headlong into one of the bricks that jutted out from the wall of the other side of the cupboard.

Only that the part of the brick that had jutted out was no longer there. It was found later, when the boy was... away, and the police would investigate the scene in order to assure that there had indeed been only Harry and no one besides him in the cupboard, on the floor, covered in blood an parts of the boys scalp, including some messy black hairs.

Petunia tried to grasp the boy by his shoulder but failed. It was as if the boy was possessed by an unnatural, inhuman power. Vernon also wasn't able to hold the boy for more than a second, but somehow that seemed to have weakened the boy – or whatever being was currently using the boys body – and the second time Vernon reached for the boy he managed to pull him out of the cupboard.

Petunia, meanwhile, was calling and ambulance and therefore didn't see the trace of red in Harry's eyes when Vernon lowered him onto the ground.

"What are we going to do Petunia?" Vernon shouted, frightened. HE had seen the strange red glow in the eyes of his nephew.

"Just hold him down, we have to keep him still until the paramedics arrive!"

"But... I won't touch that freak!"

"We can't let him do any more damage than he has already done!" Petunia screamed, kneeling down in order to pin her nephew down herself. Though it seemed that he wasn't aware what was happening, the boy still screamed and tried to fight his aunt of. A kick hit aunt Petunia in the face and she lost the grip on her nephew, who tried to throw himself against the wall on the other side of the room. Vernon, though, had seen that the freak had hurt his wife and decided that this devilish child mustn't get any further opportunity to hurt HIS FAMILY. He hurled himself in the direction of the boy and managed to grasp the freak's body, pressing him onto the floor once again.

Lying there, both adults had a good look at the boy for the first time after they had managed to pull him out of the cupboard.

Harry's eyes were half-closed, back to their normal green. Blood was all over his face, his head was torn open in several places and Petunia thought she saw splinters of bone on the top of his head.

###

Fortunately, the ambulance arrived in no time, and after one look at the boy the paramedics set to work. Well, one of them started to examine the boy while the other two hold him down because he wouldn't quit fighting, although he had started to loose energy and the fighting became less fierce.

"OK, he's breathing properly, but his heart-rate is much to fast, we need to calm the boy down NOW"

"He doesn't seem to be aware of what is going on though... Harry? … HARRY!?"

"OK hold him still, I'm going to inject him a sedative. Than we have to bring him to the hospital as quickly as possible."

"His head is hurt very bad... should we do anything about it?"

"Just put some gauze on it. And Ben, can you place the cannula for the infusion?"

"Already done, but we really have to hurry, the bleeding from this head wound is pretty sever!"

"OK all right... Mr and Mrs Dursley, we have to bring Harry to hospital now, one of you can accompany us in the ambulance. We need to be quick though."

"What's the matter with him? What has he done to himself?"

"His head is hurt severely, he'll need surgical treatment and then the doctors will have to decide what's going to happen."

"But..."

"I'm coming!" Petunia resolutely said, "Vernon just stay here and look after Dudley, I'll phone you once the doctors have told me what is going on!"

"But Petunia..."

"Vernon!" Petunia gave her husband a glare. This wasn't the time to argue about the freak! They would deal later with this new level of madness.

"OK please come, we need to go!" The paramedics had laid Harry on a stretcher, put straps around his small form since the struggling hadn't stopped entirely, and were about to carry him to the ambulance. Petunia took her handbag, gave Vernon a last warning glare and followed them outside.

Inside the ambulance, while one of the paramedics drove in an alarming speed towards the hospital, the other two continued to stabilize the boy. They did an ECG, decided that his heart-rate was still much to fast and erratic, but that they couldn't do anything about it just yet, they had to go to the hospital as quickly as possible though. They injected more pain-killers and set Harry on a drip of sodium chloride solution in order to counter the blood-loss.

When they arrived at the hospital, several doctors were already waiting and Harry was wheeled into an emergency room.

While they were at the same hospital as they had been last time, Petunia noticed that they weren't in the emergency room they had been then. Looking around, she saw a sign saying „intensive care unit" on a door just a few yards down the floor. And another sign said "Operating room NO ENTRY".

Apparently, Harry had done a lot more damage than he had done the first time they had to come to this hospital.

"Mrs Dursley?" A nurse asked

"Yes? Can I go to Harry?"

"I'm sorry but this isn't possible, but I can assure you that our doctors are excellent and they will do everything they can to help your boy!"

"But last time... last time, I could stay with him all the time!" Well, I had to, added Petunia silently.

"Perhaps last time you were in the normal emergency room? It's different here, I'm afraid, and it is quite possible that your son – what's his name? - will have to be operated right away. But you don't need to worry to much, I'm sure all will be fine, and as soon as the doctors have decided what treatment your son needs, they will come and inform you about everything! For now, please sit down, I have a few forms I need you to sign, and perhaps you would like something to drink?"

"OK.." It wasn't really that bad being allowed to stay outside. "Oh, and he isn't my son but my nephew, his parents died many years ago and my husband and I have taken care of him ever since." Petunia surely had learned her lesson.

"Oh, I'm sorry about your losses, what's the name of your nephew and how old is he? And you told me that you have been here already, when was this?"

"His name is Harry, Harry Potter, and he is 8, well 9 in a few weeks. We have been here when the boy was 4... he had hurt his head. We had to stay for three days."

"OK Mrs Dursley, thank you for the information, I will just look for the file of your nephew – by the way, which ward did you stay last time?"

"Oh, I don't quite remember... the children ward, but I don't really know which one..."

"OK, it doesn't matter, would you please just wait here, I will be back in a few moments!"

And with that, the nurse left and Petunia was left with her thoughts. She just couldn't forget the image of Harry flinging himself against the wall... the blood all over the boy's face... the bone she had seen between all this blood... his violent fight, as if he was possessed by the devil...

This incident had been far worse than any other previously. Why had it happened? What was the matter with the bloody boy? Lily... she had never been this bad. Of course, she had made strange stuff happened... but she had never acted like mad. She had never hurt herself. And while Petunia didn't thought much about that... freakish world, that...people... she was rather sure that they weren't a bunch of lunatics.  
Thinking about this... Harry had only twice done things Petunia had recognized as accidental magic... well, of course she didn't knew whether the boy was doing it when he was in his cupboard, but with Lily, Petunia had seen her doing lots and lots of these things. Harry was clearly mad, but it must have been years since he had last done something unexplainable... it had been before he has started taking drugs, hadn't it? Maybe he wasn't a wizard after all? But then, there HAD been bouts of accidental magic, even it had happened a long time ago... was it possible that the medication had something to do with the lack of these incidents? Or was his craziness overriding all magic? Or had Vernon indeed manage to beat the magic out of him?

Perhaps Harry WAS indeed ill... mentally ill, crazy, like Dr Green thought he was. Petunia had never really thought about it this way. The boy was a freak. Freaks did freakish things. And when some drugs suppressed the freakishness, who was she to question it or to argue the boy taking it? It doesn't matter whether the boy was healthy or not, all that mattered was that her life and her family weren't bothered more by all of this than absolutely necessary.

But when he was ill.. what would happen now? Would they lock him away? Would he be put in an institution? But the letter had explicitly said that Harry had to stay with them... not that she worried that Harry might be in danger if he didn't, after all it was the boy's fault when he get mixed up in some dangerous freakish stuff, but her own family... Dudley and Vernon and Petunia herself, they might be in danger, too. The letter had said so... it had been the only reason they had taken the boy in, after all!

###

"Mrs Dursley?"

"Yes? How's the b... how's Harry?"

"Your nephew is currently in the operation room, the damage he did to his head is rather severe. However, he is no longer in immediate danger. We had a bit of trouble to stabilize him enough to put him under anaesthetic, but we managed in the end. I can't tell you yet whether the boy has done any damage to his brain, but when we tested his reflexes they were all fine, so you shouldn't be too worried. The operation is likely to last a few hours, we need to make sure that not any of the bone fragments that may have penetrated his brain is overlooked and then any damage done to his brain must be treated.

You can stay here, of course, but perhaps you would like to go home for a few hours to rest? We will phone immediately when there are news, not to worry, but you can't do anything here, and even when Harry comes out of the OR, you won't be able to visit him until he can be brought to the intensive care unit."

"So he will be fine?"

"I can't tell you for sure now, as I said, the damage is rather severe, but for now he is stable and it doesn't look to bad and I'm quiet sure he will recover!"

"O... OK.. yes, I think I'll go home then. How long did you say the operation would take?"

"I can't tell for sure, but at least a few hours. We are going to phone you immediately when we have finished, you really don't need to worry. Just rest a little bit and in a few hours you'll be able to see your nephew!"

"OK... yes, ok, then... but please phone me right away!"

* * *

Vernon was furious.

Not long after Petunia had left with the freak, the police had arrived and demanded to investigate what had happened. Apparently, it was customary procedure that the police did so, as they had assured Vernon when he had started to shout that his mad nephew had done all this to himself and that there wasn't any need for the police being in the house, but that didn't mean that it was any more pleasant to have some police officers searching the cupboard and asking you questions about what exactly had happened.  
Why the boy had been in the cupboard in the first place? He liked to hide there, Vernon had responded, which wasn't a complete lie, since it was true that the freak often stayed there even when he wasn't locked up. Whether there was any possibility that there had been someone else in the house without him or Petunia noticing? („Of course not, this isn't some bar where you can go in and out as you please!"). Why there were some drawings, apparently coloured by a child, taped on the walls inside the cupboard? („As I have already said, the boy likes to hide there and obviously he draw some rubbish while doing so!") And so on.

It was only when one officer who had scoured through the mess on the floor of the cupboard emerged, holding a piece of a brick with some disgusting-looking sludge on it in one hand, saying „hey boss, I think I have found the rest of the brick the boy had smashed his head against!" that Vernon turned green and went outside.

That mad freak! How DARED he to do something that... vile, abnormal, disgusting, ghastly?

And WHY had his family been burdened with such a freak? Why wasn't there any way to get rid of him without putting his family in mortal danger?

Perhaps it WOULD have been better to kill the boy the morning Petunia had found him on the doorstep, rather than put up with this...

It was almost evening when the Dursley's received a phone call from the hospital.

Dudley, who had stayed with some friends while the whole ordeal occurred, was back and, admittedly, rather disappointed that he had missed what apparently had been more savage and brutal than any of that videos he and his friends had managed to „borrow" from the older brother of Piers.

"Petunia Dursley speaking?... How's the – Harry?"

Vernon and Dudley, both sitting at the kitchen table having supper, looked up.

"Yes... yes... ok... then we can see him?"

See him? Why should they go to see the freak? The longer they were able to live without having to see him the better!

"Oh, ok... yes, I understand, of course... than we can come tomorrow morning?"

"OK yes, sure, I'll phone you tomorrow! Thank you for the information!" And Petunia replaced the receiver.

"He is all right. Well, alive, and we can see him tomorrow. He is still under anaesthetic, so it is no use to see him today..."

"I have nor interest in seeing the freak at all!" Vernon stated," and I won't allow Dudley to see him either!"

"We can't just leave him!" Petunia snapped, "they will ask questions!"

"Well, I have to got to work, can't very well stay at home only because that lunatic has decided to beat out all the brain he might have had before!"

"Well, I suppose it wouldn't be so bad if you don't come, at least not tomorrow, but I have to go..."

"Poor dear, but you'll manage! But make sure that you don't have to stay there overnight again, we can't afford this now, Dudley needs you, I can't care for him, I'm too busy!"

"Of course, Vernon, the boy is almost 9, after all, it won't be a problem."

* * *

.

Harry awoke, feeling quite confused. He didn't know where he was. He was lying, but he wasn't in his cupboard. The mattress he had in there wasn't nearly as soft as this one. He didn't have a duvet, too, just an old, thin blanket.

He tried and failed to open his eyes and started to worry. What was going on?! It was when he attempted to move his arms in order to feel what was wrong with his eyes and noticed he couldn't move them more than a few inches that he panicked.

He uttered a noise of distress (why did his voice sounded this hoarse?), and suddenly there was someone standing near him, speaking.

"...you're awake?"

Harry was to terrified to make a sound. Perhaps he had been abducted by some sort of madman who wanted to torture and kill him. Or by someone who wanted to blackmail the Dursley's. He didn't think they would pay very much to get him back. Perhaps the abductor should have chosen Dudley.

"Harry? Are you awake?" Harry lay there, stiff.

„Child, if you can hear me, you don't need to be afraid. You are in hospital. You have a major head injury, but you will be all right in no time! I'm nurse Peter and I'm in charge for you this morning. It is almost 6 o'clock in the morning, you have arrived here yesterday evening while you were asleep. Can you please tell me whether you are awake?"

In hospital. Yes, he was awake, wasn't he? He tried to give a nod, but that made his head hurt quite a bit.

"No Harry, don't move your head, it'll probably hurt. As I said, you have a major head injury and you had to be operated for a few hours yesterday afternoon. You have a drip with some rather strong pain-killers just now, but it is possible that it hurts nevertheless when you move to much. Just try to speak, all right?"

"Mhry... My eyes?" Harry rasped.

"You have a bandages all around your head, this is why you can't open your eyes at the moment. But you don't need to worry, your eyes are perfectly healthy, there are just injuries next to your eyes, you have been rather lucky!"

"Why... why am I here? What happened?"

"You don't remember at all?"

"No... I think I was in my cup- in my room. But I don't know what happened next."

"Well, I'm just a nurse, I don't know very much, but apparently you have hit your head against the wall. I'm sure the doctors will talk to you and explain more as soon as your aunt visits you, she has promised to come this morning as soon as you're awake!"

"My aunt comes?"

"Of course, little one, she was really worried and upset! But you have been asleep all the night therefore she didn't stay here but went home yesterday afternoon. We have already phoned her that you got over the operation really well, and she promised to phone again this morning in order to ask whether she can visit you! Now, do you want something to drink? You must be really thirsty. I'm afraid you can't have anything to eat just yet, not until the doctors have looked at you..."

"Yes... ok. I'm not really hungry anyway."

"OK lad, I'm right back with some orange juice, ok?"

"Yes. Thank you!" And Harry heard the nurse – what was his name? - walking away. While listening, he noticed that there were many strange sounds. It was disconcerting not being able to see anything, because it really sounded strange. He didn't know what to make of it, wasn't a hospital supposed to be quiet? But there were beeps in all kind of notes and a funny, wheezing sound. As if someone was breathing really, really hard.

"There you are Harry, I'll just put your headboard up and then you can drink. It's a feeding cup, so you don't need to worry about spilling anything" Harry felt his upper body being lifted upright, he was about to move his arms in order to grasp the cup, but again, he wasn't able to move his arms more than a few inches. It was almost as if there was some kind of strap tying them to the bed.

"Oh, don't worry Harry, I'll hold the cup for you!"

"What is wrong with my arms? Can't move them!"

"Yes I know, the doctors have decided that it is better this way, since they didn't know what exactly had happened, they were afraid that you might hurt you again..."

"They have tied me up?"

"It is only because the doctors were unsure what was wrong with you, they just wanted to make sure that nothing would happen to you. I'm really sorry, but I'm sure you can ask them to remove them when they come looking for you the next time!"

"Why can't you remove them? I don't want to be tied up!"

"I'm just a nurse, Harry, I'm not allowed to remove them. Only the doctors are allowed to do so. Please calm down, you'll get a headache if you are getting more upset. HARRY! STOP!" Not listening to what the stupid nurse said, Harry started to pull on the straps that were holding his arms down. When that didn't help, he started to tug more violently, but his arms just didn't move! Starting to panic, he began to throw his whole body from one side to the other. He dimly was aware that the nurse was yelling, but it didn't matter. He was tied up and he needed to get away!

His head hurt quiet a lot now. But he couldn't stop, he had to fight, he had to fight against being captivated! If he tried hard enough, he would get free eventually, he just knew it, he just had to fight harder, it didn't matter that his head felt like it was going to split in two, it didn't matter that there were hands all over him, trying to hold him down, it didn't matter, he had to fight, he had to get away!

And then he felt weaker and weaker, as if all the energy was leaving him and his whole body became kind of numb and he couldn't fight any more... he was so tired... but he had to fight... had to get away...

"Ok, he is asleep. Oh my, poor dear. Must be really terrifying, waking up, lying in a foreign bed, not being able to see, not being able to move... well, perhaps we can at least get rid of the bandages above his eyes, he won't be this frightened then when he wakes up again. The injuries around his eyes weren't this severe, but I have to wait for Dr Miller to decide. Well, he should sleep for the next few hours anyway."

Unnoticed by Harry, nurse Peter had pressed the alarm button when Harry had started to fight against the restraints. The doctor who was in charge for the intensive care unit Harry was currently staying came and gave Harry a benzodiazepine in order to calm him down quickly. Since Harry already had a drip (he was getting some rather strong pain-killers and it had been a miracle that he had been able to fight this hard at all!) this was done in a few seconds.

###

Harry slept for almost six hours.

Petunia came to the hospital while he was still asleep. She was to talk with the doctors about Harry's injuries and further treatment. She wasn't disappointed that her nephew was asleep, though, she hadn't known how to deal with him, anyway.

Dr Miller and Dr Wayne, who were in charge of Harry, had led her to an office and explained what damage Harry had done to himself. Quite a lot, as far as Petunia was concerned (how could anyone do this to oneself? This boy must be really, really mad!), but both doctors seemed to think that it could have been far worse. He had managed to break the roof of his skull, but while the meninges had been penetrated by splinters of bone, his brain hadn't sustained any damage. He had a broken cheekbone and a splintered temple, and many bruises and wounds that had needed stitches, but all in all, Harry had been really lucky.

"How long is he going to stay here?" Asked Petunia, after she was sure that she wouldn't throw up.

"Well, normally I would say, Harry can be moved to a normal ward in a few days time, but since he needs close supervision... I think it would be reasonable when he stays here, on the ICU, for at least a week. Then, of course, we have to talk to the colleagues from the psychiatric ward for children – you have stated that you know Dr Green already? - and they have to decide when Harry can be moved in their care."

"He has to stay on the psychiatric ward?!"

"Yes, we can't very well release him after what he has done to himself... he could have killed himself! He was really lucky that he hasn't damaged his brain. Have you never talked with Dr Green about Harry being institutionalized?"

"Well, it has never been this bad... Then Dr Green will be in charge of him when he can be moved to the... that ward?"

"Yes, I think so... after all, this is the only psychiatric ward for children in this hospital, and when he already knows Harry it would be sensible."

"So... what happens now, then...?"

"Well, Harry will stay here until he is well enough to be moved to the other ward. And there, the consultants will take care of him and determine his treatment. I don't really know much about the treatment of children with severe mental illnesses I'm afraid, but I think he'll stay there for quite some time. But the doctors there will be able to tell you all of this in much more detail!"

"Ok, then... can I see my nephew?"


	5. Captive

_I don't own Harry Potter_

_Thanks to everyone who reads this story, it means a lot to me!_

_Because PhAnToM 1212 mentioned it in a review, I'm afraid that Severus Snape won't appear in this story until chapter 11. I try to write ahead a few chapters in order to correct mistakes/add stuff I have forgotten, and while the wizarding world will play a role from chapter 7 onwards, it takes more time (and more words^^) to get to Hogwarts than I expected. I hope you aren't disappointed, I really never thought this story would turn out to be this long!  
_

* * *

.

**Captive**

."LET ME GO !"

"Harry, you have to calm down!"

"NOOOOOO! LET ME GO! I DON'T WANT TO! LET! ME! GO!

"Harry we can't let you go, please, try to calm down, be a good boy, you have to relax, everything will be fine, but you have to calm down!"

"NOOOO! TAKE THE STRAPS OFF! I DON'T WANT IT! TAKE IT OFF AND LET ME GO! I CAN'T MOVE, YOU CAN'T TIE ME UP!"

"Harry, no. The restraints will stay were they are for now, and if you don't calm down they won't be taken up for a very long time! There is no need to shout! You knew that you would get the restraints if you continue to hit your head against the wall!"

"PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE! I DIDN'T MEAN TO! AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHRRR! TAKE IT OFF! I'LL KILL YOU I SWEAR!"

"Bob, please go and fetch Dr Green, I think Harry need something to calm down."

"NOOOOOO YOU CAN'T KNOCK ME OUT WITH YOUR STUPID MEDICIN!"

"Harry you have had plenty of opportunities to calm down on your own, but..."

"HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO CALM DOWN WHEN YOU TIE ME UP?!"

"You know how it works Harry. If you hurt yourself, you get the limb restraints and they will stay put until you have calmed down and we can be sure that you don't hurt yourself again!

Bob! Please hurry!"

"OK Maggie thank you – Harry, I'm going to inject you some medicine that will help you to calm down, ok?"

"NOOOOO! I DON'T WANT TO! I HATE THIS!"

"I know Harry but since you refuse to calm down voluntarily there is nothing else we can do. You will feel better very soon, I promise. Maggie, please keep his leg still"

"NOOOO! I DON'T WANT 'JECTION! OOOOOWWWW"

"OK Harry, all done. You are going to be asleep very soon and you'll see, when you wake up, everything will be much better!"

"NO NO NO NO NO... don't want to... please... no no..."

"OK... Maggie, you can cover him up. He should be asleep for at least 5 till 6 hours. Make sure someone keeps an eye on him the whole time anyway, we can't risk him waking up before then, like the other time. Don't know why he reacts so unpredictable to all the medicine."

"Sure thing, doc. Shall we call you when he wakes up or shall we just give him his normal medication?"

"You can give him his normal stuff. However, I'm going to meet Dr Andrews this afternoon, I think we have to try some heavier antipsychotics. He seems to be not affected at all by Phenergan and Cloxan..."

"What are you going to try?"

"Well, Dr Andrews suggested to try Haldol. I'm not sure so... he's only 9, and Haldol is pretty hard stuff. However, since he doesn't seem to react to any medication the usual way... I mean, most children his age and weight would be comatose by the doses he gets... well, we'll see. If it helps him... Ok, I'm in the office, if something happens just call me"

###

It was Harry's second week on the closed psychiatric ward for children and adolescent, and his third week in hospital after the nearly fatal incident. He didn't know that, however, since he had been drugged most of the time.

In contrast to the doctors beliefs, he hadn't been calm the second time he woke up on the intensive care unit, although the bandages that had covered his eyes had been removed and he was able to see his surroundings. The restraints on his arms hadn't been removed so, and after Harry had almost manage to hurl himself out of his bed his legs had to be put in restraints, too. The doctors had been rather alarmed by his unwillingness or inability to calm down, even so his head must have hurt terrible through all the racket he made. They couldn't risk that he aggravated his injuries further and therefore he had spend much of his time on the ICU heavily sedated.

On his third day in hospital, Dr Green had come to visit him (he had been awake and pretty calm, at least in comparison to the days before). He had asked Harry how he was feeling and why he had hurt himself, but Harry had refused to talk. Dr. Green had told him that when he was better, he would be moved to another ward, the ward where Dr Green worked, but Harry hadn't given any sign that he had heard the man.

The psychiatrist, being used to children who refused to speak or didn't do as they were asked at all, had come to visit Harry every afternoon, though, and during his fourth visit, Harry had decided to tell Dr Green that he was feeling fine (which Dr Green hadn't believed, but the doctors from the ICU had later confirmed that Harry's injuries were healing at an alarmingly pace, that they couldn't explain how it was possible for someone who had been hurt this badly to be almost healthy in less than a week) and that he didn't know why someone had smashed his head against the wall. Whether he wasn't reminiscent of anything at all, Dr Green had asked, and Harry had admitted that he remembered someone screaming and that he hadn't been able to breathe properly, but then the next thing he knew was that he was tied up to a bet and couldn't see anything at all.

Dr Green had tried to explain to Harry that he was restrained because they were all afraid that he might hurt himself again. Harry had looked at the doctor as if he was mad. Why should he hurt himself? He had never hurt himself! Someone else had hurt him! And being tied up only meant that he couldn't protect himself when the one who had hurt him came back to do it again!

Two days later, Harry was moved to the psychiatric ward, though he still had to stay in bed for at least a week. His medication had been increased shortly after he had woken up the second time, but it didn't seem to make any difference. Well, the doctors didn't notice any difference. Harry, however, felt awful. His head felt all fuzzy, numb and agitated at the same time and his arms and legs had started to twitch on their own accord. He didn't like it.

He had refused the medicine after a few days, but Dr Green had come and told him that if he wouldn't swallow the antipsychotics voluntarily, he would get them forcefully. The nurses had shown him what the doctor meant a short while later. While one was holding his head and pinched his nose closed (he had been tied up, again, so he couldn't even fight, so he tried nevertheless) the other one was standing next to him, the disgusting medicine in a little cup. After almost a minute, Harry had been forced to open the mouth in order to breath, and the nurse had taken advantage of it and force-fed him the medicine.

After Harry had gotten his medicine this way for another few times, he had stopped fighting and swallowed it without protest. He didn't have a choice, did he?

* * *

When Harry woke up he felt awful. Well, he had felt awful pretty much the whole time during the last few weeks, but now it was particularly bad. He needed a few second to realise that he wasn't in his cupboard but in the monitoring room of the closed ward and that he was still in restraints.

"You're awake?" Harry startled. He hadn't realized there was someone else in the room. He shouldn't have been surprised, though, they hardly ever left him in peace these days. "Yecch..chch..hhhhrrrr" Harry tried to answer, but his throat was extremely dry and he only managed a hoarse cough.

"Oh dear, do you want something to drink? Wait a moment -" the nurse opened the door but didn't leave the room. „Andy? Can you bring us some water in a feeding cup please?"

"Of course, just wait a minute" came the reply from somewhere outside the small room.

Harry was rather curious where he was, he hadn't left this room since they had brought him here, but he couldn't very well just going out, being tied up as he was.

Even when he hadn't been in restraints, he hadn't left the room. Somehow, the nurses and the doctor didn't want him to. He didn't understand it, though. Was this some kind of prison?

There was even a small bathroom attached to the room. At first, Harry had been grateful that there was a bathroom with a door and that he didn't have to use the bedpan any more. It had been mortifying! But his hopes that he would have a little more privacy now had soon be shattered.

"I need the loo!"

"Ok dear, do you want the bedpan or do you want to try to get up and going to the toilet? You don't need to worry, it's just here, you don't have to walk far!"

"Toilet!"

"Ok, I'll just call one of the male nurses, I'm sure you'll be more comfortable with a bloke." The nurse, a female had winked at him. Harry didn't understand, though. Why did it matter whether there was a male or a female nurse? He wasn't a baby, he could stay in his room without an adult watching him all the time. They didn't seem to believe him, though, and one of the nurses had stayed with him all the time since he had brought into this room.

"Hy Harry, I'm Alex. You want the loo?"

"Er, yes."

"Ok, come on. Be careful though, you're still weak and the medicine might make you feel a little bit dizzy."

"I'm fine." Well, that wasn't completely true, but he was fine enough to walk to the bathroom on his own!

"All right, lad, then let's go!" And Alex took is shoulder and slowly walked him to the bathroom. Harry had to admit, he did feel a little bit weak. His legs trembled slightly and he was very grateful that he didn't have to go far. With Alex help, he walked into the bathroom and tried to turn around to shut the door. Alex, however, didn't retreat like Harry had expected he would.

"Er, I just shut the door, all right"

"We can shut the door, Harry, but I'm going to stay inside the bathroom."

"What?! You can't do that, I need to use the loo!"

"I know, but you aren't to be alone."

"But you can wait outside, not in the bathroom!"

"No, Harry, I'm staying inside. The doctors have decided that you are not to be alone and this includes going to the bathroom. If you want to, you can shut your eyes or humming and just pretend I'm not there."

„But I can't go... I can't use the toilett when someone is watching me! Why can't you just leave me alone, it will only take a minute!"

„There is no use arguing, Harry, I'm going to stay here and nothing you say can change that. But I promise, I won't look at you directly and as I have said, just pretend I'm not here."

"NOOO! YOU CAN'T DO THIS!"

"Yes Harry we can. And even screaming won't change that. If you are more comfortable, you can use the bedpan, but someone will stay with you ALL the time."

"NOOO! YOUR BASTARD! YOU CAN'T MAKE ME GOING TO THE LOO WITH SOMEONE WATCHING!"

"Harry, do you want to use the loo now or not? I will not leave the room and it's your choice whether or not you take care of your business, but if you don't want to, than you can go back into you bed an I'm calling nurse Anne since she is in charge for you this afternoon. So, what do you want?"

"I won't go to the loo with someone watching me!"

"Ok, then come on." And Alex opened the bathroom door and led him back to his bed. Harry was too flabbergasted to trying to resist. Did they honestly believe that he would use the loo with someone watching him all the time? That was worse than it had been at the ward he had stayed before, at least he had allowed to have some privacy while using the bedpan! But even if he choose the bedpan now he wouldn't be unsupervised Alex had said. Were they mad? What was he supposed to do, stop drinking and eating?

When Harry was back in his bed and the nurse had resumed sitting next to him, reading a newspaper, he wasn't sure what he should do now. He really needed the loo, but apparently he was not going to be left on his own any time soon. He settled for holding it back, for now. Perhaps they would change their mind?

Half an hour later, however, Harry was desperate. If he couldn't release himself any time soon he would wet his bed, and surely this was even more embarrassing then going to the loo in front of someone else, wasn't it? Especially since he wouldn't even be alone while wetting the bed...

"Uhm, I REALLY need the loo... but you don't need to call the man. I'm fine on my own!"

"I'm sure you would, but there is no way you are staying without supervision, even if it is only for a minute. Just wait a second -" she walked to the door, „Alex? Can you come back?"

"Of course dear" Harry wiggled and wasn't sure he would manage to hold it back any longer, but fortunately Alex came right away – somehow, they seemed to have expected that he wouldn't make it long, Harry thought much later – and walked Harry to the bathroom for the second time.

"Please..?"

"No Harry, I'm sorry."

"You bastard!"

"Just do your business, Harry." And what else could he do? Harry tried very hard to pretend that it wasn't happening, that he was back at the Dursley's and nobody would look at him while he peed, but it didn't work. Alex didn't look at him directly, but he never looked away either.

What's wrong with these people? Harry thought. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon have never did this, even when I was little!

He was glad when he had finished, but still felt alternatively ashamed, angry and rather humiliated.

"Em, can I go on my own next time?"

"No, lad, not until the doctors say that you can, and I don't think this will happen very soon."

„But this is stupid!"

"Harry, one and a half week ago you almost killed yourself, we won't allow you to do something like this again. And if it means that you can't be left alone and have to be accompanied when using the loo, then I'm rather sorry but there is nothing that can be done about it."

"I HATE YOU!"

###

But nothing Harry had said had made them reconsider, and after one and a half week constant supervision he started to become accustomed to it. It was still degrading, humiliating, but somewhere during the last few days Harry had stopped fighting and started to endure it without protest. It wasn't as if anything he had said had made a difference anyway. So what was the point in fighting?

Therefore, he didn't even try to protest that he could do it himself when only his arms were freed but just accepted the feeding cup him being given by the nurse.

There really wasn't much dignity left to loose.

* * *

For a short while, it looked as if Harry got better and additional medication wouldn't be needed. He was even allowed to leave his room a few times, although he was still constantly accompanied by a nurse. Then, however, while Harry was sitting on the table in his room, reading a book, it happened again.

Harry had been restless all day, and the nurses had therefore already been on their guard. Just like every other day, Harry was under constant supervision but when he jumped up and ran head-first against the wall, even Nurse Alex who had been sitting on the other side of the room, just 10 feet away from the boy, couldn't do anything to stop him.

"HARRY NO!"

Pressing the alarm-button, Alex leaped from the stool he had been sitting on, sprinted to the boy and was able to grab him before he could smash his head against the wall for the second time. The damage was already done, though, Alex noticed, when he felt a sticky substance on the boys forehead.

Harry, who had been feeling terrible all day, would never quite know what had happened, but suddenly there was something – someone – some kind of force which smashed his head against the wall with such might that he thought he would pass out. And it hurt!

Dimly, he heard someone screaming and then there was a loud, wailing noise. The next he knew was that someone – or was it the same force that had smashed him against the wall? Would it attack again? - was grabbing him, seizing his body away from the wall and pressing him to what seemed to be a body of another person. Suddenly there came more and more people running, grabbing him, holding him, shouting and screaming and yelling things Harry didn't understand – what were they doing? Were they trying to kill him? But weren't this nurses and doctors? Weren't they supposed to help him, not hurting him? But they DID hurt him! Now they were taking hold of his legs, too, even to he had started to fight and screamed that they should let him go. He didn't want to die! But they weren't listening, there were too many of them, they were just carrying him away, and now they were pressing him down onto a bed - what were they doing? - there was a man almost lying on him and several other people had taken hold of his arms and legs and then there came even more people who brought straps – no no no they should stop! - and they were tying him up, again – he couldn't move – no! This wasn't happening, this couldn't happening! No! Stop!

"ALEX, WHAT HAPPEND?"

"DON'T KNOW – JUST THREW HIMSELF AGAINST THE WALL – HELP ME TO KEEP HOLD ON HIM HE WON'T STOP FIGHTING – HARRY STOPP!"

"NOOOOOOOOOOOO LE ME GOOOOOOOOO LE MEEE GOO NOOOOO AAAWWWWW"

"HARRY QUIT FIGHTING! - HERE, I GOT HIS ARM – MELLY?"

"I HAVE HIM, YOU LET GO AND GRAB HIS LEGS! - OUCH! HURRY, AL, HE WON'T STOP KICKING!"

"STOOOOOOOOOOOPPP NOOO AAAWWW OOOUCH – NO!"

"WHERE IS GREEN?"

"HE'S FETCHING THE SEDATIVE – NOW, WE HAVE TO GET HIM ONTO THE BED – MARC? DO YOU HAVE THE STRAPS?"

"OK YES, HOLD HIM DOWN! - HARRY STOPP!"

"OOOUUUU HURT! NOOO AAAAWWWWW HATE YOU STOP NO NO NO!"

"OK, ALEX YOU PRESS HIS BODY DOWN, MELLY, JO, YOU HOLD HIS LEGS STILL – DR GREEN?"

"YES ALL RIGHT, FIRST THE STRAPS, THEN THE SEDATIVE – HARRY? HARRY!?"

"NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NOOOOOOOOO"

"JUST KEEP HIS ARM DOWN! – I HAVE THE STRAPS – STOP FIGHTING BOY!"

"OK, LEGS ARE RESTRAINED – SUE? HAVE YOU HIS ARMS?"

"STOPP STOPP STOPP STOPP NOOOO LE ME GOOOOOOOOO!"

"YES ALL RIGHT, ARMS ARE FIXED – MIDRIFF?"

"FIXED – ALL RIGHT."

"OK, JUST KEEP HIS HIPS STILL I GIVE HIM THE SEDATIVE -"

"AWWWWWWW – OUCH! STOP!"

"OK ALL RIGHT – you can led him go"

"Everything all right?"

"Yes, sedative should start working soon-"

"NO NO NO NO NOOOOOOO! LE MEEEEE GOOO!"

"Ok... I suppose this was it, then – Doc, you have to take a look at his forehead, don't know how much damage he's done..."

"NO NO... NO... noo... nooo... leme... no.."

"Ok he is out – all right everyone, you can go.. Sue, thanks for helping, just tell the others everything is under control now – I'll join the meeting as soon as I have made sure he hasn't done anything serious to his head. Alex, are you hurt?"

"No, everything fine – just... well, I didn't thought he would fight this hard. Such strength in such a little body – almost superhuman..."

* * *

Two days after this latest stunt, doctor Green and another doctor Harry had never seen before informed him that from now on he was to take different medicine. Harry had argued that he didn't need medicine at all, but the doctors hadn't seemed to listen to him. Even worse, he wasn't allowed to just swallow the new medicine but he got injections every week. At least when he had been able to take the stuff orally, he had been able to spill or spit at least something of it. Maybe, though, this was the reason they had decided to give him injections?

The weeks that followed the doctors announcement were a blur. Harry wasn't even aware about the time that passed, and even later he could never quite believe that it had been almost two month before he regained a sense of time and of his surroundings.

Dr Green and Dr Andrew, the head of the psychiatric ward, had decided that something had to be done about Harry. The boy was restrained most of the time, and he couldn't be left without supervision without risking that he hurt himself. And worse, he didn't even acknowledge that he hurt himself but continued to claim that someone else was doing it.

Harry seemed well and truly psychotic. And since the medication he got didn't seem to help at all, there wasn't really any room for discussion when they decided to dose him with Haldol, one of the strongest antipsychotics existing. Nevertheless, it wasn't a decision either of them was happy with. Harry had already experienced side effects from the medicine he took now. Not only would a heavier antipsychotic be even more likely to cause severe side effects, but it might even affect the boy's brain over the long haul. There weren't many experiences regarding the effect of anitpsychotics to children, and even less which concerned the stronger ones. However, if they wouldn't treat Harry, he would either kill himself some time soon, even if it were by accident, or he would spend the rest of his life physical restraint.

They had talked with Petunia Dursley, they couldn't very well treat the boy without her consent, and she had agreed. The woman seemed to be rather desperate, and having seen her nephew tied to the bed and heavily sedated (since she had visited shortly after Harry had another episode, but had insisted on seen him although the doctors had tried to tell her what to expect) this was quite understandable. For a caring relative, it was always worst, seeing a beloved person, bounded to a bed like a dangerous animal. She had agreed that Harry should get the chance to get healthy again, though, even if it meant that he had to put up with rather disagreeable side effects and unknown long-term effects.

The first injection hadn't been pleasant, neither for Harry nor for the doctors or the nurses that had to hold him down. The boy was fighting with all his might, but of course, a 9 year old who barely weighed 24 kg hadn't a chance against 4 adults.

"KEEP HIS HIP STILL!"

"HARRY STOP FIGHTING! YOU WILL GET THE INJECTION NO MATTER HOW HARD YOU FIGHT AGAINST IT!"

"NOOOOOO! YOU CAN'T DO THAT! YOU CAN'T GIVE ME YOUR STUPID STUFF! I DON'T WANT TO! LEAVE ME ALONE LET ME GOOOO!"

"HARRY! FOR GODS SACKE... ALEX? HAVE YOU GOT HIS OTHER LEG?"

"YES EVERYTHING UNDER CONTROLL... Harry, lad, calm down!"

"NOOOOOOOOOO! YOU'RE FUCKING BASTARDS!"

"OK, please hold him still now, I'm going to set the injection. Harry, it will hurt a bit, I'm sorry, but it has to be done!"

"NOOOO- AUUUWW STOP IT!"

"It's all right, it's almost done. Just a few moments – ok, you can let him go."

Harry had, of course, be restrained while receiving the injection. This hadn't stopped him from fighting, so, there was no way the restraints could be set that tight without harming the boy. It might be terrifying for a child when adults were holding it down by force, but they were only doing it because it was in the boy's best interest, wasn't it?

The application of the following injections hadn't be a problem, though. The boy barely noticed that someone was holding him and didn't even attempt to fight.

It was frightening seeing a child under the effects of high doses of antipsychotics. Even for the psychiatrists who were used to seeing children with peculiar behaviour, strange quirks, or even mentally disabled ones, it wasn't pleasant.

Harry didn't seem to be aware of his surroundings. He had to be spoon-fed the first few days, so it got a bit better after the then and he was able to feed himself, at least when he was told to do so. The nurses walked him on the toilet several times a day because the boy had stopped to indicate when he needed to go. They weren't sure whether he couldn't articulate himself or if he wasn't aware of natural necessities, but at least he appeared to be able to follow instructions.

After a few weeks, Harry seemed to get better. He was well-behaved, did as he was told and hadn't made an attempt to hurt himself for several weeks. Therefore, the boy was allowed to leave the monitoring-room and join the other kids for meals and free-time activities like playing board games or watching TV. However, while some of the other children were allowed to leave the ward for a few hours each day, Harry had to stay inside.  
When he finally regained some sense of himself and his surroundings, he tried to leave the ward a few times each day, however, the door was locked an his attempts futile. It wasn't unusual for a child that had to stay on a closed ward to try to run away. Harry, however, was different. He seemed desperate to get out, but at the same time not really aware that he was locked in or why he was locked in in the first place. Normally, the children threw a few tantrums when they discovered that they couldn't leave, but calmed down after a few days or perhaps a week. Harry just continued roaming the ward, searching for an exit while murmuring to himself. When he became more and more restless and even refused to stay in bed instead searching for an escape route, he got more medicine. Not that he was aware of it, but it helped a bit, and the constant pacing stopped.

###

Harry himself was confused. He didn't really know where he was or what was going on. At first he had thought that he was in a hospital, but there weren't any doctors or nurses. He knew that doctors and nurses wore white clothes, but all the adults (there were flocks of adult!) wore normal clothes. He remembered being in a hospital before, but apparently he was somewhere else now. He tried to discover were he was and what he should do, but there seemed to be no exit. And nobody explained to him what he should do. Oh, they gave him food three times each day and he was allowed to wander down the halls and entering rooms at random, but this just confused him more. Apparently, he wasn't with Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon any more, since they would have never allowed him to walk into rooms and down the halls as he did it now. But he thought he had seen Aunt Petunia a few times. But this couldn't be, could it?

There was a man who wanted to talk to him every time Harry saw him. The man was somehow familiar, but Harry couldn't place him. He used to bringing him into a room where he was to sit on a comfortable chair and then he would ask strange questions. It was very difficult to listen to him, because Harry felt rather fuzzy and tired and the voice in his head had started to get louder again. It had been really quiet inside his head recently, Harry thought. It had both been pleasant and disturbing. Pleasant because it was much easier to go to sleep and to focus on important stuff like finding an exit from this funny place. Disturbing because Harry wasn't used to it being so quiet. There had always been this voice, as long as he could remember. Perhaps the voice was mad at him? Sometimes, when his relatives were really mad at him, they didn't talk to him either.

He had told the man who asked questions that he ought to speak louder because the other man kept interrupting him, but the doctor didn't seem to understand. He just looked worried at Harry and asked more questions.

As time went by, however, Harry learned that he was indeed in a hospital, although in a peculiar one since he wasn't allowed to stay in bed the whole day and nobody wore white clothes. But perhaps the TV was wrong about this? He also got to know some of the other children who were staying in this hospital, though Harry thought they were rather strange.  
There was a girl who was so thin that Harry had started to offer her his pudding. The girl refused, though, and even became rather angry when one of the nurses told her to eat her own pudding. Harry didn't understand why, surely eating pudding wasn't a bad thing, wasn't it (well, as long as you weren't with Uncle Vernon or Dudley, then it could easily lead to some slaps if you even considered eating pudding!). A boy who were around Harry's age just wouldn't stop talking and running through the corridors and around the table in the room he and the other kids stayed most of the day. Harry thought it was rather exhausting just looking at him, and he wondered why the doctors or nurses wouldn't let the boy go outside if he wanted to run and play. (He had even asked one of the nurses, but hadn't received a real reply, just a smile and being told not to worry.)

One day, Harry got quiet a fright. He was just coming back from the loo (he had been allowed to go on his own for the last few weeks, so he hardly registered the difference any more) when he heard yelling and screaming, and suddenly many adults appeared and ran trough the corridor towards a room at the end of the hall. He pressed himself against the wall, worried that all the people might just knock him over. Just as Harry decided it was safe to continue his way to the day room, people came back out of the room, several of them carrying a girl that has blood all over her arms and face and even clothes! He stared at the girl in shock, and only when the girl together with some of the adults had vanished behind another door he came out of his stupor. The poor girl, someone must have hurt her very bad! But since they already were in a hospital, the doctors were bound to fix her!

###

It was November when Harry was released from hospital.

Dr Green hadn't be sure and had talked with Petunia Dursley, Dr Andrews, the nurses that cared for Harry most of the time and even some social workers several times. Although the boy had got better over the last few month, he was far from healthy. He continued to hear voices. Or at least one voice, since Harry refered to it as „him" rather then „they". He had, however, stopped hurting himself, and this was quite a progress considering the fact that he had done so almost every week before he had admitted to hospital. The medication (Harry got two different antipsychotics now, and another drug to counter side effects of the first two) seemed to help, finally. Harry was much quieter and not longer this restless. He hadn't had to be restrained for over three month now.

The social worker had proposed to send Harry to a facility that cared for children who were mentally ill, but Petunia Dursley had been rather adamant that the boy returned home. Dr Green was pleasantly surprised by that, it wasn't very common that families of children who had similar problems like Harry were prepared to care for the child themselves instead of sending it to a long-term institution. Harry had to be supervised even when he was released from hospital, he had to take medicine three times a day and additionally had to visit Dr Green every week to get his injections and to allow the doctor to make sure that he didn't suffer a relapse.

The doctor had even talked to the primary school Harry had attended before his stay in the hospital, and it had been decided that the boy would return to school after Christmas. The teachers would keep a close eye at him, and if he couldn't cope, he would have to be home-schooled, though Dr Green hoped to avoid this. After all, it was important for a child to have regular contact with other children.

Petunia had visited Harry more regularly since he had gotten better, and had decided that the boy wasn't as difficult as he had been before when under the influence of all this drugs. It was somewhat frightening to see a nine year old whose facial expressions were almost paralysed while at the same time he had strange twitches in in his shoulders and neck. His movements were quite rigid and stiff and sometimes it was difficult to understand him when he was talking (which wasn't very often, though). But the relief not having to deal with the boy's self harm and emotional outbursts any longer outweighed all the peculiar features by far.

Harry didn't really know how to feel about him being released. He supposed it was good, at least the wrong mind in his head told him so. It was a strange thing with that wrong mind, it had somehow changed during the last few month. It wasn't as demanding as it had been before, but left him alone most of the time. Of course, sometimes Harry could still hear it, and he was worried that it might hurt him again (Harry overheard it talking about finally killing him only a few days prior), but well, it was a lot more quiet than it had been before, therefore everything was fine, wasn't it?

It would be difficult getting used to all the chores again, after he had been able to laze about for month now, but he would manage. All things considered, Harry supposed he was glad that he was released and he looked forward to going to school again.


	6. Starving

_I don't own Harry Potter_

_Hope you like it!_

* * *

**Chapter 6 - Starving  
**

.

The first few weeks back at Privet Drive all was well. Uncle Vernon tried to avoid Harry most of the time and made Dudley do the same. Harry was glad that he didn't have to deal with his Uncle because he had become rather slow in doing his chores, and the slaps Aunt Petunia gave him hurt a lot less than the whacks he normally got from Uncle Vernon for not finishing them in time. He didn't remember it being that difficult and strenuous to clean and sweep and dust and cook. He had to concentrate very hard in order not to forget what he was supposed to do, or how certain things worked. He kept forgetting what he had done mere seconds before, and after he had burned the food he had to cook for his family the second time in a row, his Aunt allowed him to skip this task. She wasn't keen on the boy burning down the house. Honestly, while it was indeed nice not having to deal with all the strange quirks of her nephew any more, his state of only being half-aware of his surroundings made it quite difficult to deal with a drugged Harry.

Harry himself didn't realize how much he had changed due to the medicine. Of course, he knew that he tended to be slower than usual and that things he needed to do had to be told him twice (or even more times). However, he wasn't aware that he was in some sort of trance all of the time, that his movements were similar to that of a robot, that his facial expression was almost frozen, and that he hadn't felt a real emotion in weeks.

It wasn't until shortly after Christmas that things started to go downhill again.

###

Harry had spend most of the holiday in his cupboard, being grateful that he was allowed to doze all day and not having to work. The Dursley's didn't want their Christmas being disturbed by the freak and had decided to lock him up. In previous years, Harry had normally been allowed to join the family at least for Christmas Dinner, but Vernon and Petunia had decided that poor little Dudley had suffered under the boy more than enough and that he deserved a freak-free holiday, even if that meant that Petunia had to do all the dishes on her own.

The break the body had gotten over the holidays had been enough for the voice – the demon – to gather sufficient strength and it decided to launch a new attack at the boy, the boy who was the reason for its current state, for its existence.

The new injuries the boy's face and head sustained went unnoticed, since two days prior Uncle Vernon had decided to teach the freak a lesson (he had threatened Dudley by looking at him strangely, at least that had been Vernon's opinion) and his face was bruised in several places anyway. The weekly visit of Dr Green had to be postponed for this very reason, and when Harry next saw the Doctor, neither the bruises caused by his Uncle nor the injuries he had done to himself were visible anymore, thanks to his body's wonderful (almost magical!) ability to heal every damage rather quickly.

But even if it wasn't noticed by anyone, not even by Harry himself, the experience that under the influence of drugs the demon in Harry's head needed almost a month to recover from doing only a little bit of damage to his enemy lead to a change in its tactics.

The one and only goal the demon – the voice, the other mind, the fragment of Voldemort attached to Harry's brain – had was to destroy the enemy, to hurt and kill and torture and slaughter. It was its destiny. And while this peace of a soul couldn't be called self-aware or really sentient at all, it did have once been part of the vilest wizard in recent history, and the desire to murder hadn't been diminished by its rupture from the main part of the soul it once belonged to.

There were so many different ways in which one could hurt human beings, so if one approach wasn't successful, you just had to try a different one.

And so it was that during mid-February Harry stopped eating. Starving was a rather interesting way of killing someone, wasn't it?

Harry had been thin, almost undernourished, all his life. Well, at least since he had lived with the Dursley's. This was partly due to mostly getting leftovers, but also because of a quick metabolism inherited by his father, and the amount of energy the foreign soul-part nesting in his head absorbed.

Since he had started taking Haldol, though, Harry had gained almost 7 kg, which was very much for a young and relatively small little boy, and which had led to Dudley's trousers (from three years ago) fitted Harry perfectly now. It wasn't unusual for someone who had to take antipsychotics to gain weight, and since Harry was still well inside the normal range for his age and height, Dr Green hadn't considered it troublesome, quiet the contrary, everything that made Harry look less ill was regarded as desirable.

During the next few weeks, though, he noticed that the boy became thinner again. He didn't worry, it was entirely possible that the boy had a growth spurt. And if something else was happening, Mrs Dursley would tell him, wouldn't she?

Petunia had noticed that the boy refused to eat. At first, she hadn't thought anything about it. The boy would eat when he was really hungry, and if he thought that he could blackmail her by refusing to eat, than he was very wrong. He would get two slices of toast in the morning, some bread for lunch and the leftovers from dinner as supper. If he thought this wasn't good enough for a freak like him, than he would soon notice that she wouldn't provide him with fancy meals like he had likely gotten in hospital. And if he hoped to be allowed to skip chores in return for eating again, well, this wasn't going to happen either.

Once or twice, Petunia saw the boy choking down a few bits of old bread while doing the dishes, and this seemed to prove her theory that the boy was blackmailing her. Pretending to starve while he was eating in secret, ha! As if she, Petunia, would fall for something like that! This deceitful little urchin! Petunia would just pretend she didn't care whether or not the freak ate anything at all! - Well, there wasn't much pretending required, really. - And it wasn't as if it would be this bad when he would loose a few pounds, after all, he had gained a lot of weight during his stay in hospital!

Harry didn't really understand what was going on. He was hungry, very hungry, but he couldn't eat. When he tried, an invisible force seemed to choke him, to throttle him, and he felt dizzy and sick and his head hurt, it was just impossible. He tried, nevertheless, being hungry wasn't one of his favourite feelings, and it was even worse when you were given food but not being allowed to eat it as if you were locked into the cupboard and not having an opportunity to eat something! Sometimes, he managed to swallow some pieces of bread or even a little bit from his dinner he would get after Dudley had finished before he was strangled again, but most of the time something – someone – prevented him from eating at all. He knew that sometimes his Uncle got mad when he ate too much of Dudley's food, but he had never choked him for eating, just yelled and slapped him perhaps. Additionally, Uncle Vernon didn't seem to be somewhere near him most of the time this things happened, and neither did Aunt Petunia or Dudley. He was confused. Who was banning him from eating? He was hungry!

Unfortunately for everyone involved, Dr Green had been on holiday almost the entire March. Harry had to visit a different doctor during this time, of course, but this doctor didn't know him very well, and he had certainly not seen him very often before that month. And he had enough of his own patients, too, and this boy wasn't his responsibility! He made sure that he got his injections and prescribed him the medicine Dr Green had dosed him with, but he wouldn't interfere with the boy's treatment otherwise. His colleague was competent enough and surely he knew what he was doing.

So it was that Dr Green was in for a shock when he saw Harry for the first time after four weeks of holidays on the Canary Islands.

"Hello Mrs Dursley, hello Harry, nice to see you again!"

"Dr Green, I hope you had a nice holiday!"

"Oh yes, it was quite restful and it was wonderful to escape all the mud and rain here... Harry, how are you?"

"I'm fine. The other doctor gave me injections."

"Yes, my boy, I told him to do it. It was the same medicine that you've gotten all along, there haven't been any difficulties, have there?"

"No, everything was just fine, well..." Petunia Dursley didn't really know what to say. She knew the boy was significantly thinner than last time, hell, perhaps even thinner than he had been before he had started to get all the medicine, but what was there that she could have done? Harry just didn't want to eat, and surely it wasn't right to let a child blackmail you! This was a child therapist, well, sort of, so surely he would think similarly?

"Harry, why don't you go play or colour while your Aunt and I talk? I'll call you when we have finished and then your Aunt can wait outside while we have our talk and you get your injection, all right?"

"Yes ok. But don't want to colour. Just reading."

"That's fine Harry, you know where the books are."

The doctor turned to Petunia. "I must admit, I'm a bit... worried. Harry has become so thin during my absence... has there anything happened?"

"Well, no, not really... he just refuses to eat, I think... I don't really know, I think he is just trying to get what he wants! I have caught him eating something secretly lots of times, but when we eat breakfast or when I give him his lunch or anything to eat at all, he just refuses! I don't know why, it started a while ago..."

"Hmm... well, it would be unusual for a 9-year-old to go to such length in order to get his own way. Turning down food for a day or two, that nothing out of the ordinary, but this must be going on for weeks, perhaps even month, for him to become this thin. It's quite alarming, really... Why haven't you told me before?"

"It didn't start until you were on holiday!" Petunia answered, indignant that the Doctor would accuse her of not taking proper care of the boy. And surely you couldn't really count the weeks before the Doctor's holiday anyway, since she had SEEN the boy eating, even if it weren't during mealtimes! „And he did eat, after all. I don't know, perhaps he just looses all the weight he gained due to the medicine! And I really tried to convince him to eat more, but you can't very well force a child to do so! And you can't let a child blackmailing you, can you?"

"Surely you are right, and I don't want to imply that you don't pay enough attention to Harry's eating habits. After all, you have another child to look after, and it surely isn't easy to fulfill the needs of both children... especially since Harry requires so much attention anyway. Can't be easy for little Dudley to constantly have to compete with his cousin for attention... No, I was just curious whether or not there have been problems you weren't comfortable enough to discuss? Or whether there have been more problems than usual? Have you noticed anything else about the boy, apart from his changed eating habits? And has he demanded anything in return for starting eating again?"

"Well, no, I haven't notice anything else... he hasn't hurt himself or anything like this, the medicine really helps with that! And otherwise... well, he seems to be mentally absent, day-dreaming, very often, but he had done this forever, I have told you already..."

"Ok, I'll talk with the boy later, perhaps I can find a reason for this behaviour... he hasn't mentioned anything about wanting to loose weight, has he?"

"No, he never indicated something like this."

"Ok, it would have been unusual anyway... I think we just have to observe him. Try to make him eat as much as possible, I know little boys can be rather stubborn," he chuckled, „but it's important that he doesn't lose much more weight. I will weigh him every time I see him, and hopefully we'll be able to stop any further reduction of his weight. I think that's all for now... have you anything else, any questions?"

"No, I don't think so... apart from his eating, everything is just fine... should I wait outside while you talk with Harry?"

"That would be ideal, thank you very much for you cooperation, Mrs Dursley! - Harry?... HARRY?"

"Yes?"

"I would like to talk to you a bit, want to come sit with me?"

"Ok..."

"Well, Harry, I've noticed that you have become rather thin over the last few weeks... what's the matter, lad?

"Nothing 's matter."

"Hm, I can't quite believe this... your aunt told me you don't want to eat anymore?"

"'f course I want to eat!"

"But your aunt said that you haven't eaten very much during the last few weeks. And you have become quite thin!"

Harry shrugged with his shoulders. Wasn't his fault that he wasn't allowed to eat! "Harry, this is important... you'll get ill if you just stop eating. Tell me, aren't you hungry or do you want to loose weight or why is it that you have lost weight?"

"Don't know... not 'llowed..."

"You are not allowed to eat? Who told you this?"

"Don't know... don't want to talk 'bout it."

"Hm, but it's important that you tell me who has forbidden you to eat. After all, we can't let him continue doing so, can we?"

"I don't want to talk about it!"

"Harry, please calm down. I assure you you ARE allowed to eat! You are even required to eat as much as you can! If you don't start doing so again soon, you have to come back to hospital. You don't want this, do you?"

"Don't know... doesn't matter." This wasn't even completely lied. He surely hadn't enjoyed most of his time he had to stay here, but at least he had had his own bed and had been able to walk around, even if he hadn't been allowed to go outside... of course, it had NOT been nice being tied to the bed all of the time... Harry wasn't sure what was worse, being locked in the cupboard or being tied to the bed. But in the cupboard, he was at least able move and he didn't feel completely helpless...

"Well, I thought you wanted to go to school again, meet your friends. You can't do that while being in hospital! And I'm sure your aunt would be very sad, too, if you had to stay here again. Harry, this is really important, you have to promise me that you start eating again, ok?" A further shrug was the only reply Dr Green got. "Harry, this isn't negotiable. You will start eating again, and if you don't, than you have to stay here again and we will make you eat! It's your choice, either you do it voluntarily or we will force you!"

"YOU STUPID BASTARD! YOU CAN'T ME MAKE EATING!"

"Oh, I assure you Harry, we can. And yelling won't change that!"

"YOU ARE STUPID! I WANT TO EAT BUT HE DOESN'T LET ME!"

"WHO doesn't let you eat Harry?"

"I don't tell you! You are mean!"

"Well ok Harry... but remember what I've said, either you eat voluntarily or we will make you. I will ask your aunt next week whether or not you have done as you have been told, and additionally I want to weigh you." He waited for a reply or even a tantrum, but when the boy just shrugged again, Dr Green motioned him to go to the corner of the room where an examining bed and several medical devices stood, including a a scale. "No, Harry, you have to undress, at least your jumper and trousers."

Harry huffed, but didn't protest further. When he lad removed his baggy trousers, Dr Green was shocked since the boy was even thinner than he had thought he would be. After a quick glance at the scale – the boy weighed barely 25 kg! - he indicated him that he could dress again and wrote Harry's current weight down into his file.

###

One week later, Harry had lost another pound. Petunia Dursley told him that she had tried to make the boy eat – had even cooked him his favourite meals! - but he just wouldn't do it! However, she had again seen him stuffing his face with bread and one time even chocolate (Dudley's chocolate!). Being asked why he refused to eat regular meals but eating sweets in secret, Harry had another fit and yelled that they should leave him alone, that he tried to eat and that they knew anyway and just wanted to torture him, too.

Dr Green gave Aunt Petunia instructions that she should try to let the boy have his meals in his own room, (perhaps he couldn't or wouldn't eat while other people were watching him?) and if that didn't work she should force him to sit at the table until he had eaten at least some of his food.

The following week, Petunia almost cried when she told the Doctor that the boy still wouldn't obey and that he had even managed to scare her Dudley with his odd behaviour. (Unbeknownst to Dr Green, this was the reason the woman was actually crying, imagine, her poor Dudley, too scared to sit at the table with the freak! There simply HAD to be done something, she couldn't let her Dudley suffer even more under the freak! He might be traumatized by the boy!) Apparently, Harry had started to make odd groaning noises while he sat at the table where the family was having supper and Petunia tried to force food into his mouth. Then he had, instead of swallowed it, spit it on the table and started to beat and scratch his throat, as if there was something he wanted to go away, while screaming and howling. It had been several minutes before the boy had come out of this state, and Dudley and Vernon were since eating in the living room.

Dr Green didn't know what to do. The boy got very high doses of strong antipsychotics, yet he clearly showed sings of another psychotic episode. This wasn't good. He had really, really hoped that the medication and close supervision would prevent the boy from becoming a permanent resident, but it seemed that was exactly what was going to happen.

"Ok, Harry, please listen to me very carefully. If you don't eat during the next three days, you will have to stay here again, on the same ward as last time. And we will MAKE you eat then. You are dangerously underweight, and if you don't start eating again soon, than you will die! Your Aunt and I can't allow this, so we will do everything we can to prevent you from killing yourself, even if it is unpleasant for you! You don't have a choice, Harry, you MUST eat!"

"JUST LEAVE ME ALONE YOU LYING ARSEHOLE! YOU ARE HAND IN GLOVE WITH HIM, I KNOW IT!"

"Have you heard what I've told you, Harry?"

"STUPID BASTARD!"

"Ok, I assume you have. We will see each other again in three days time. Mrs Dursley – if Harry continue to behave in this way, you can bring some clothes and other necessities when you come here again on Thursday, just as we have planned."

And, of course, Harry didn't eat. He was desperate and grumpy and he really didn't feel good at all, he was hungry and his head ached and he was dizzy all of the time and the thing tried to choke him as soon as he tried to grab some food, and then there were all these stupid people who told him to eat, as if he wasn't trying it! Harry supposed they were all making fun of him, telling him to eat while knowing exactly that he couldn't! Surely they had seen him being choked and strangled when he tried to eat? There was no way they couldn't know what was going on, it was obvious! And these lying arseholes just pretended not to notice anything, despite them plotting all of this with the thing in his head together! He really, really hated all these people.

* * *

It was no surprise for Dr Green when Petunia and Harry arrived Thursday afternoon with Petunia carrying a a travelling bag.

It had been decided that Harry would get the opportunity to eat voluntarily until Friday morning. If he didn't, a feeding tube would be placed. The doctors really saw no other way. The boy was underweight and seemed to become weaker and weaker by the day, it was only a matter of time until he collapsed.

When Dr Green entered the ward on Friday morning, he was faced with a rather angry Harry who was throwing his breakfast through the day room where all meals were served for those kids who were allowed to move around freely.

"YOU STUPID STUPID IDIOTS! I CAN'T EAT THAT FOOD WHY DON'T YOU GET IT? YOU JUST WANT TO HAVE A GOOD LAUGH DON'T YOU? BASTARDS!"

"Harry stop this now! If you don't want to eat than just sit down and be quiet but stop this screaming and throwing your food!"

"SON OF A BITCH! I WON'T DO ANYTHING! MISERABLE DISGUSTING IDIOT!"

"Harry no! Stop insulting people! Either you calm down or you will be taken to your room and Dr Green will decide what to do with you. But you have to stop NOW!"

"JUST LEAVE ME ALONE AND GO AWAY IDIOT!"

The boy yelled while he was running through the hall and into his room. Since he hadn't hurt himself or misbehaved in any other way, apart from not eating, he had allowed to sleep in one of the normal rooms that weren't constantly supervised for the past night, but apparently this was soon to be changed.

The doctor as well as the nurses decided to leave him be, hopefully he would calm down on his own. Dr Green was informed that Harry hadn't eaten at all, neither at supper nor at breakfast nor during the night (he had been told to ask for food if he wanted to eat something at any time, since nobody really knew WHY the boy had stopped eating in the first place), but apparently he had at least tried. The nurse who had been in charge of Harry told the doctor that the previous evening, Harry had grabbed a slice of bread and had been about to take a bite when he had suddenly started to groan, breathing raspingly and tried to rip something invisible from his throat, almost choking himself in the process. Asked what was wrong, the boy had started to yell and insult the staff, accusing them of deviousness and being shifty (and idiots and miserable bastards and so on), and had finally, when it became clear that he wasn't going to calm down on his own, been given an sedative.

And while Dr Green considered it an encouraging sign that the boy at least tried to cooperate, well, sometimes, there was nothing more that could be done to spare the boy the feeding tube.

Half an hour later, Dr Green entered Harry's room. The boy was lying on his bed, mumbling and shaking his head.

"Hey Harry. Have you calmed down?" There was no response, Harry didn't even seemed to be aware that someone had come into the room. "Harry? … HARRY!"

"Hu? Oh hey Dr Green."

"Everything all right?"

"'f course"

"Well, ok Harry, you know what is going to happen now?"

"What?"

"Well, I have told you yesterday that we would make you eat if you continued to refuse doing it on your own. The nurses have told me that you haven't eaten anything at all, this means you are going to get a feeding tube."

"NO! You can't do this. I won't eat and you can't make me!"

"Harry, I would like to explain to you what is going to happen now, all right?" The answer was a shrug - "ok, well, in a moment the nurses and another doctor will come and bring all the things we need. You can stay in your bed while we do this procedure. It won't be pleasant, but it won't hurt either and it will be quick, at least if you don't fight. This is really important, Harry, ok? Don't fight, because it will take longer to place the tube and the longer it takes the more unpleasant it it. The tube itself is rather thin, and it will go down into your stomach, not through your mouth but through your nose. When the tube is placed, we will be able to feed you liquid stuff that contains everything your body needs to stay healthy and to gain a little weight. This is all. Nothing to worry, see? So, do you have any questions?"

"Y' can't make me eat! I won't do it!"

"Harry, have you listened to what I have just told you?"

"Yeah but y' can't make me do it. No no no."

"Yes Harry we can. Now -"

The door was opened and to nurses and another doctor – Harry didn't recognize him - entered the room. One of the nurses was pushing a table on wheels into the room. There were all kind of funny things lying on the table, Harry thought it looked rather interesting, but also a little bit alarming. What were they going to do? He had heard Dr Green telling him weird things but it had been rather difficult to understand everything when another voice was babbling in your mind. He was rather tired, too. Why couldn't these people just leave him alone? But perhaps he was getting an injection again, like the previous evening when the demon had forbidden him to eat?

"Ok, Harry, do you think you can lie still or would it be better if we put you in restraints?"

"NO RESTRAINTS!" THIS Harry had understood. Restraints were horrible. They were much, much worse than just lying still. When he was tied to the bed, he was in constant fear that the demon might hurt him again while he wasn't even able to defend himself. Well, he didn't really know how to fight against him at all, but it couldn't be good being bound when someone attacked you, could it?

"Ok, but then you have to promise to lie still and not to rip out the tube, ok"

"'kay" He would do everything to avoid being tied up.

"Good. - Now, I will just take measurements." The doctor said and approached Harry, holding some kind of long, thin cable. He placed one end on Harry's nose and put a piece of sticking plaster on a part of the cable that reached Harry's stomach while the cable was coiled around his ear. Harry watched him doing it with mild curiosity. One of the nurses, meanwhile, started to put the headboard of Harry's bet upright.

"It's all right, Harry, it will be easier if you are sitting while the tube is being placed. It would be the best if you could bend your head a little bit, too. Just put your chin onto your chest. - Do you want a pillow?"

"What are you going to do?" Harry started to worry. Why were all these people here? Why should he sit in this funny position? What were they going to do?

"We are just placing you your feeding tube, lad, like Dr Green has explained to you. All right, now here is a cup of water with a straw. Can you take it? - Ok. - When I or Dr Green tell you to do so, I would like you to start drinking the water through the straw, ok?

"Why? I don't want to!"

"It will be easier to place the tube this way, Harry. You don't have to worry, it won't be this bad, you just have to drink the water, than you won't feel very much at all. Ok, and I put this bowl on your lap, so if you get sick you don't have to worry, ok?"

"No! ' don't want to!"

"Harry, this has to be done and it will only be more difficult if you don't cooperate. Ok now, are you ready?"

"No!"

Dr Green motioned the other doctor and the second nurse to come to Harry's bed as well. However, being surrounded by 4 adults only added to Harry's panic. What were they trying to do? Why were they cornering him? Unconsciously, his breathing quickened. There were four huge people looming over him – he wanted them to go away!

"No! Go away!"

"Harry, do you want the restraints? You will get them if you fight! Now lie still and all will be over in a few minutes." With that, the Doctor reached forward, brought the end of the tube to Harry's nose and started to push it in.

"NOO! STOP!" Faster than any adult could react, Harry had grabbed Dr Green's hand, pushed it away from his face and turned his head to the other side.

"Harry no! Josh?! - Take his arms!"

"NOOO! STOP IT! I DON'T WANT THIS!"

"I know, but it has to be done! You had plenty of opportunities to eat voluntarily but you chose not to, and you knew that you would get the tube if you didn't. So, will you lie still and not bending your head away or do we have to restrain you?"

"NOOOO! GO AWAY!"

"Ok... Anne?"

"All right." One the nurses reached under the table and got the dreaded straps. All fighting was in vain when the three other ones were holding him down and the nurse put first his ankles, then his wrists in restraints and finally even his waste. No! Harry didn't want this! Normally, he only got limb restraints, he had never gotten a waist restraint, too! Now he couldn't move at all. Well, apart from his head. He could still fight then, couldn't he? If they wanted to put this thing into his nose he could just shaking his head and they wouldn't be able to do so, no matter whether he was in restraints or not!

"Ok, I'm really sorry Harry, but since you don't give us a choice..." Dr Green tried to push in the tube again, but true to his word, Harry shook his head violently.

"NOOOO! YOU DON'T GET ME! GO AWAY!"

"Oh Harry... Josh, Anne?" The two of them moved towards the head of Harry's bed. Josh grabbed his head and kept it still while Anne did the same with his shoulders. NO! This wasn't fair! They couldn't do this! Harry tried to jerk his head away, he didn't want this, but Josh was a lot stronger than he looked like. His grip didn't hurt, not really, but it was terrifying. Harry's head was pressed against the pillow and the hands on either side of his head made it impossible to shake it or turning it around. The boy had long since stopped breathing normally, he was alternatively screaming and breathing way too fast. They had to hurry before he would become even more hysteric.

"Ok. Just keep him still now!"

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

And the Doctor brought forward the tube for the third time, and although Harry really, really tried, he couldn't move, couldn't fight. The tube was put into his right nostril and pushed forward.  
Harry felt it being pushed upwards, they just wouldn't stop – NO! - it hurt! - He felt the end of the tube scratching his nose on the inside – they couldn't do this, they would hurt him, NO! - and it was still pushed higher and higher – he couldn't breath -

"NOOOOOO AAAAWWWW STOP ...chhhh shhjhhh... ouch..." Harry could only cough and wheeze, and than he felt something – the tube – in his throat. This thing was in his throat and the doctor still didn't stop but pushed it forward even more – NO! Harry started to gag, and also the bowl where somehow still – or again? - sitting in his lap, he was sick all over himself. Well, he hadn't eaten anything for days, so there wasn't much in his stomach and it came only foam and fluid. He gagged and gagged and thought he would die -

"Harry ok, swallow some water now!"

But Harry wasn't listening, he was screaming and crying and gagging and in full hysterics – he was about to die, they were choking him, strangling him and they wouldn't stop, they just wouldn't stop!

Dr Green pushed the tube in further. It wasn't nice to see a screaming and crying child being restraint AND hold down, apparently in a full-fledged panic-attack, but there was little he could do apart from doing this as quick as possible.  
So he continued to push the tube in, it wasn't as if it was impossible to do so even with the boy refusing to swallow some water but it would feel much more uncomfortable.

"Ok Harry, just a few inches than everything will be over!" The doctor told the still gagging and coughing boy. A pity that the patient had to be awake for this procedure, it would have been much easier – both for Harry and for him – to do this while the boy was sedated, but the risk of damaging the boy's throat was far bigger when he was asleep and his muscles relaxed than when he was awake.

"And all done! Harry! Harry everything is done now, you can calm down!"

Harry was aware that his head and his shoulders were released, and he tried to shake his head, to bend it away in order to get this thing out, he didn't want it have in his throat! But as much as he wriggled, it wouldn't come out-

"Harry please lie still, the tube won't come out, no matter how much you shake your head!" Dr Green held the end of the tube in his hand, trying to position it in a way that won't bother the boy, when Harry made a particular violent jerk with his head and managed to pull the tube out for a few inches, which caused him to cough and gag again. "Harry no!"

Josh and Anne had grabbed his head in a matter of seconds, and Dr Green pushed the tube back in, until the sticky plaster he had placed on the tube earlier was again at the tip of Harry's nose.

"NO NO NO- chhhhrrr hrrr"

"Harry there is no use in doing this... you will only hurt yourself. Josh, please keep his head still until I have fixed the tube to his nose" Dr Green put strips of plasters on Harry's nose, fixing the tube to his face. Then he continued to attach the end of the tube to a bag full of fluid, which was hung on a stand next to Harry's bed.

"Ok, all done. Harry, we will release your waist and your legs now, but the wrist restraints will stay in place. I don't think you will leave the tube where it is, and I don't want to do this all over again."

"NO!"

"Yes. Anne, can you stay with him for now? I don't think he'll have to be supervised for the entire time, but I would like someone staying with him for now."

"Quite all right, I'm just going to fetch some stuff."

"Ok Harry, I'll visit you in the afternoon and then we look how you're doing, but for now you have to stay in bed."

"NOOO I WON'T YOU CAN'T MAKE ME! STUPID ARSHOLE!"

But the doctor left without another word, and the remaining nurse began to clean Harry's face and upper body, even so he was yelling and screaming the entire time, and tried to fight her off. However, with his arms still in restraints, he couldn't do very much, and the nurse didn't seem to be bothered by his insulting remarks either.

###

In the end, Harry had to be restrained for almost 4 weeks. A few days after the feeding tube had been placed, Dr Green had thought it would be safe to release him. However, as soon as Harry's left arm was free, he had tried to pull the tube out. The only reason he didn't manage was that they had used so many plasters to fix the tube to his face, and that Dr Green and the nurse who had been assisting him had grabbed his hand in time.

The failed attempt to get rid of the tube had led to a major tantrum thrown by Harry, and he didn't calm down until he got a sedative.

A week later, he was allowed to leave the bed, but he had to stay in a wheelchair, his arms tied to the armrests. It had been a compromise, it wasn't ideal for a physically healthy boy to stay in bed all of the time, but they couldn't release the arm restraints either.

Harry gained weight, though, and this was all the doctors could ask for.

Dr Green and the head of the psychiatric department had also decided to try an additional antipsychotic, one that would hopefully work, since there was no way the boy could be released home when he would just stop eating again or hurting himself in any other way.

The first few days he had to take the new medicine, Harry was mostly asleep, but this they had expected. When he was back to being awake most of the time, the doctors offered him to eat voluntarily again, and after a few days in which it became clear that the boy had trouble to recognize what was going on (an unfortunate side effect of the new drug), he did as he was told.

The tube was removed a week later, no one had wanted to take the risk that he stopped eating again and having to place a new one after the difficulties they had experienced while placing the first one.

Harry was tired. He didn't really know anything else, everything seemed to be a blur and just too complicated to understand. People were talking to him but he just stared at their faces, their moving lips and couldn't figure out what he was supposed to do. When they gave him food he knew that he had to eat it. When they brought him to the bathroom and motioned him to sit on the toilet, he knew he was supposed to pee, and when they were undressing him he knew that he should take a shower. He didn't knew much else, though.

He was Harry, and he was in hospital. That was ok, wasn't it? They told him not to worry, that he should just do as he was told, and he was grateful that he didn't have to think or to figure everything out on his own. They asked him how he felt, he felt fine, didn't he? But why did he have to stay in hospital when he was fine?

When Aunt Petunia was allowed to take Harry back home, he resembled more a marionette, or perhaps a zombie, than a child of almost ten. Sure, he had regained some of his abilities to act on his own accord, and he had even managed to paint some pictures without being told what he was supposed to do, but it was still... frightening to watch him.

His movements were clumsy, his posture stiff as a board, and the twitching of his head had increased.

He wasn't allowed to go to school, and even if he had, he was in no condition of learning something. It had been decided that he should stay at Privet Drive, for now, since his family dearly loved him, and surely this was much better than any home for sick and disabled people could be. His aunt had almost been in tears when Dr Green had pointed out that it would be difficult to deal with Harry, and that it might be better to send him into permanent care. It wasn't often that the psychiatrist saw parents – or relatives – that cared that much about their children and were prepared to take the trouble looking after a child that needed constant supervision. Most of them were rather grateful to send their children to a permanent facility, and it was understandable, really! However, Harry's family obviously loved him and since his aunt had been very adamant that the boy stayed with her and her family, who was Dr Green to argue? He would see the boy twice every week, so everything should be fine.

* * *

**next chapter: a certain letter arrives...**


	7. A wizard

_I don't own Harry Potter  
_

_I would like to address the review from Anime-Rosalie, in case someone holds a similar opinion: As I have mentioned before, I don't exactly know how the British Healthcare-System, especially psychiatric institutions, work. I DO know, however, how children, adolescents and adults on psychiatric wards are treated in Germany, both from first-hand experience and from the things some of my friends have told me. And I can assure you, nothing that has happened to Harry so far (being restraint because of self-harming, getting a feeding-tube,...) is exaggerated or unrealistic. On the contrary, I have only included things that are common and legal. There are other things that only happen in exceptional cases or that are, according to German law, illegal, but I haven't used these.  
Of course, parental consent is required when it comes to treating a child, but first of all, it can be overruled by court orders (for example if doctors consider that the decision of the parents isn't in the child's best interest), and in Harry's case Petunia doesn't care what happens to him as long as she and her family are left alone by authorities. _

_That said, I want to emphasize that I very much appreciate critical reviews and don't regard these as flames! I'm also happy to explain my point and I'm well able to admit mistakes, so feel free to point out everything that doesn't add up!_

* * *

**Chapter 7 - a wizard  
**

.

"Harry, please come into the sitting room, we need to talk to you!"

Harry had been lying in his cupboard, watching a spider climbing up and down the wall when his aunt had suddenly opened his door. This was unusual, very unusual. Normally, they would leave him alone when he had cleaned the kitchen after they had supper. Perhaps he had missed something?  
He clambered out of his cupboard and followed his aunt into the living room, a room he was normally only allowed to enter when he was doing chores.

"Dudley, dear, would you mind going to your room playing some computer games? Your father and I need to talk to the boy."

"No I want to stay!"

"Duddy, sweetheart, I'm sorry but we need to talk to him alone. I promise it won't be long!"

"NO!"

"Dudley please... look, this won't be very interesting at all, and I'm sure it will be more fun playing some games than listening to something we have to tell the freak. And I'm sure we can find a little reward if you do as you are told!" Vernon winked at his son. „I think I have heart something about Megalomaniac 2 being released next week."

"Hm... ok, but you promise I get the game?"

"Of course Dudley dear!"

"Ok, well... but I need some of the ice-cream if I go into my room, too!"

"That's all right dear, wait a moment, I'll bring you something! Poor dear, must be starving!"

Harry stayed in the corner next to the door while his aunt was busy serving Dudley. He was always a bit wary when he was alone in a room with Uncle Vernon. Aunt Petunia wasn't the most friendly woman, but Uncle Vernon was much, much worse, especially when it come to strange and freaky things. Harry was reasonably sure that his relatives didn't want to speak with him about his craziness, since it had been a long time – over a month! - since he last had an encounter with the demon. Dr Green wasn't likely to have told his aunt something untoward, too, since he had been rather pleased with Harry behaving so well when he had visited him a few day ago. He had finished all his chores in time, so there was really only one thing his Aunt and Uncle could possibly want to talk to him about:

That strange letter that had arrived in the morning.

Harry hadn't even noticed that the letter was addressed to him until his Uncle had spilled his coffee over the newspaper moments after Harry had given him the post and had squeaked something about "the freak having been gotten a letter!"  
Harry, and surprisingly even Dudley, had been shoved out of the kitchen and he had only been able to make out Vernon saying „It must be from THEM!" Before the door was closed. Dudley had tried to listen through the closed door, but Harry knew better than to do so himself. If his Uncle would catch him, he would surely get a beating and his aunt would complain to Dr Green that he was so difficult to deal with. Apart form that, he wasn't really interested in who might have send him a letter anyway. It was probably just wrongly addressed anyway. He had never gotten a letter. And this had been a weird letter, the envelope being made of thick, yellow paper... and who was „them" Uncle Vernon had talked about? But it really didn't matter, did it? His Aunt and Uncle would deal with it. He only hoped that he wouldn't be in trouble for receiving such a strange letter.

But apparently, he was. Otherwise, he wouldn't be standing in the living room right now.

Fortunately, his Aunt came back rather soon. She sat down next to Vernon and motioned him to take a seat on the second sofa. Harry wasn't sure what to do. He had never, NEVER sat on any of the sofas. Clearly this was a trap! They wanted him to do something he wasn't allowed to do in order to tell on him to Dr Green! Then, he would have to stay in the fucking hospital AGAIN and would probably get even MORE medicine! He hated this! Everything! He hated the hospital and the medicine and Dr Green for forcing him to take it and his relatives for making him going to the Doctor in the first place... it wasn't fair!

"No!"

"What 'no', boy?" His Uncle asked, dangerously low.

"I won't sit on the sofa! You'll just want to trick me and getting me back to hospital!"

"What are you talking about, boy?! Just sit down as your aunt told you to and stop acting like a paranoid!"

"No! You will tell me on and then I have to go back to hospital because I misbehaved and I'm not allowed to misbehave and then they will lock me up again and make me taking even more medicine! I'm not sitting on the sofa you can't make me!"

"Then just stay were you are or sit on the floor, boy, but we will have this conversation and you will listening, otherwise we WILL tell you on!"

"Fine!" Harry huffed, sitting down onto the floor. What the hell was going on?

"Look, you have seen this, ehm, letter that arrived in the morning. Have you?" His aunt asked, not really sure whether or not the boy had noticed it at all. After all, he was in a state of half-awareness most of the time, and you could never be sure whether he had actually noticed something or not.

"Yeah... funny letter. But I don't know who send it! I didn't mean to!" It was always better to claim innocence and apologise in advance.

"I KNOW you don't have to do something with sending the letter! Will you just LISTEN, boy!?"

"' sorry"

"Right, that letter – well, it was from a school. A school for... for people like you. They want you to attend the school."

"Do you mean this letter was from some asylum that has a school?"

"No you stupid freak – well, you could say they are mad, but not in the usual way..." Vernon looked thoughtful (an expression that Harry hadn't seen on his Uncle's face very often).

"Vernon no, not now – Harry, no, there are people who are – different. But they aren't... mentally ill. They have a special school. And they want you to attend it. You have to write them a reply that you will, but that they have to send someone to explain everything to you and to buy your supplies!"

"But... I haven't attended school for ages!"

"Yes I KNOW, boy, but this is a special school and you have to go. You will stay there all year since it is a boarding school and only stay here during summer. Do you really think we want to put up with you any more than necessary?!"

"So it IS some kind of home for mentally ill, isn't it?! Dr Green has told me that there are things like this, were people like me have to stay forever and that you might decided sending me to one of these things! But I won't go, you can't make me!"

"BOY listen to your Aunt! This is NOT an asylum, even so that would be an appropriate place for you to stay, also! And you WILL go to this stupid school whether you want to or not, I will not put up with you and your madness any more!"

"So what IS it if it isn't an asylum? And why am I allowed to go there when I haven't been allowed to go to a normal school for years?!"

"I have told you already, it's a school for people like you. People who are different. Your parents also attended that school. There is a... a special race of people who are different from normal people. WE are normal people but YOU are different! And therefore you have to go to this school. They teach all kind of weird stuff...m...mma...magic. It's a school for magic. You will learn how to do all these crazy things... don't ask me more about this, one of the teachers will come and explain everything! They came to Lily, too... but they must think we knew how to do everything, otherwise they would have send a teacher handing over the letter in the first place..." Petunia mumbled on, speaking more to herself than to the boy who was sitting across from her with a glazed expression on his face.

Harry had stopped listening shortly after his Aunt had mentioned his parents.  
He had had parents?  
Well, of course he knew, somehow, that everyone had parents. But his relatives had never mentioned his mother or father, he had never seen a picture, he wasn't allowed to ask questions, he didn't remember them and didn't know anything about his... his parents. So somehow ,they had never seemed real. And now he should go to the same school his parents had?

"Do you listen, boy!?" There was no reaction, the child just sat there with a faraway expression on his face. "BOY!"

"Hu?" Harry felt confused, dazed... perhaps he had another one of these „pychtic episodes" Dr Green had talked about? He knew that he was to tell Dr Green immediately when he noticed anything strange going on in his head. So perhaps he should ask his aunt whether he could phone him tomorrow?

"BOY, I won't put up with your disregard for your caregivers any longer! YOU WILL GO TO THAT... THAT 'SCHOOL', NO ARGUMENTS! And now you will write a letter to these freaks!"

"But... what kind of school is this?"

"HAVEN'T YOU LISTEN TO YOUR AUNT?! It's a school for... for ma-freaks! Freaks who are useless members of society like your parents were, who don't care about destroying the life of normal people by dropping the child of some strangers of f on one's doorstep, completely selfish freaky people!"

"I have told you, boy, it is a school for magic. And no arguments, you will do as you are told!"

"Magic..?" And to his relatives shock, Harry began to cry.

"What's the matter NOW, boy?"

"There is not such a thing like magic! It's not real! You just want to send me to an asylum without me knowing it! I don't want to, Aunt, please, I don't want to! I promise I will behave and not acting strange any more and I will take all medicine you want to but please don't send me to an asylum!"

"BOY! It's NOT an asylum but a school for freaky wi- wizards like you and you WILL go!"

"No no no no no no no no no no no no no no please no..."

"Boy, listen! Magic is real. Your mother was a witch and your father was a wizard. And apparently you are a wizard, too. You HAVE to attend this school in order to learn how to control it. You can't be exposed to normal people without having this – this stuff under control! You might hurt people with it!"

"No no no no no no no no no no no no..." Apparently, explanations weren't working. Harry had started to rock backwards and forwards and seemed to loose hold on sanity – well, the remainders of sanity he still had - rather quickly. If she didn't want to bring the boy to hospital this very evening, she had to do something, Petunia decided.

"Harry! Listen boy! HARRY! - Vernon, just slap him! We need to stop this!"

Who was Vernon not to whack the freak when he got a chance to do so? It even seemed to help, the boy was looking slightly confused at his uncle, then he turned to his aunt and asked

"What?"

"Boy, Harry, you have to listen and you will not acting like a lunatic any more! You are a wizard and you have to go to this blasted school! And in order to do so, you have to write a letter to these... these people! Someone will come and explain everything. I don't know any more about all of this, so don't ask questions but just write this letter!" And she handed him a pen and some paper she had brought to the living room earlier.

"But... but there is no magic! This is all just in my head, isn't it? Are you real? How do I know that you are real? Perhaps everything is just some weird dream! Dr Green has told me to tell him immediately when strange things are happening... I must phone him. But when this is a dream – can I phone him? I have to ask my Aunt. Are you my Aunt? Or are you only a hallucination? I don't know I don't know oh please help, I don't know!"

"You will NOT phone Dr Green! He mustn't be told anything of these... occurrence! There is a law that normal people aren't allowed to know anything about this – this world, this magic! You mustn't tell him, do you understand!?"

"But this isn't real... this can't be real. There must be something wrong. Oh please I don't know... this isn't right. Please stop it stop it... STOP IT IT HURTS!"

"Damn it... Vernon, would you please fetch his emergency kit? I don't think there is much use speaking with him now..."

About half a year ago, Dr Green had provided Aunt Petunia with medication Harry was to take in emergencies when Dr Green wasn't available, but it wasn't bad enough that he had to be brought to hospital. Well, it was evening so the Doctor wasn't available, but there was no way she could bring Harry to him now, anyway. After all, she had just told the boy that magic was real and that he was a wizard, so the Doctor might decide that SHE needed to stay on a closed ward!  
Petunia almost snorted, as if she would ever be anything but normal! The boy, on the other hand, was not only a freak like her sister had been but mentally ill as well. You couldn't be more abnormal, could you?  
She had almost been relieved when Vernon had shown her the letter. Of course, she HAD been quite sure that it would come some time before the boy turned eleven, but she couldn't help having been a bit worried that his craziness, his other freakishness, had somehow overrode the magic. After all, the boy hadn't had any bout of this „accidental magic" for years! She hadn't been sure whether or not it was possible for someone to loose his magic because of such a thing like a mental illness... she had never really known anything about this world, so how could she be sure that the boy would still be accepted in that... that school?

But apparently, he was. And that was all that mattered right now. It didn't matter whether or not the boy HAD magic, because as soon as one of these wizard from the school turned up, her family was finally free of the devil little urchin! THEY could look after this crazy child, then, they would have to care for him and put up with all this self-harming and other incidents.  
Of course, she had to tell Dr Green a story about why the boy was away suddenly, but this shouldn't be a problem. The Doctor had mentioned sending the boy into permanent care on a lot of occasions, especially during the past year, so he wouldn't be too surprised when she had finally done so. The wizards could provide her with some believable records, the least they could do to make up for the past ten years!

"Here is it, Petunia dear!" Vernon had returned, and without bothering to explain anything to the boy (he probably wouldn't listen anyway, since he had started mumbling to himself one again) Petunia shoved one of the stronger sedatives into her nephews mouth.

"Drink, boy!" A glass of water was pressed in his face and he obeyed instinctively.

"Go to your cupboard! Now!" That was easy. He knew that his cupboard was safe, he wished he could stay there forever. He could just forget the strange things his Aunt had said, and tomorrow everything would be ok again.

Petunia was relieved when Harry did as he was told without putting up a fight.

Well, she just had to write the letter herself, then. Two letters, to be precise, since she didn't know whether there would come one of there disgusting birds to fetch the reply or whether the responses to Hogwarts letter were somehow able to make it to THEM via the royal post, a feat no letter she had wrote the wizards during the past years had achieved.

_Dear Professor McGonagall,_

_I'm Petunia Dursley, Harry Potter's Aunt, and would like to inform you that he will accept your invitation. _

_However, since we are not familiar with the wizarding world, we would appreciate if you could send someone over in order to tell Harry everything he needs to know and to buy his school supplies._

_There are additional information I feel obliged to explain to you, too. _

_Faithfully, Petunia Dursley_

* * *

When Harry woke up, he knew something was off. It wasn't normal that he woke up on his own rather then being shook awake by his Aunt. Something must have happened.

He lay still, listening to the sounds from outside his cupboard, trying to figure out what might had happened. What day was today? What was the last thing he remembered? Why did he feel so confused? Perhaps he had to take extra medicine again? It sometimes happened that his Aunt decided that he had to take extra. Dr Green had explained it to him, it was to make sure that he didn't get worse and that he wouldn't have to come to hospital again. It was rather kind of his Aunt to make sure he didn't have to stay in hospital too often, wasn't it?  
Ok, but why had nobody woken him? Even when he had taken extra medicine in the past, it had never been an excuse not to make breakfast for the family. Yesterday... what happened yesterday? His Aunt and Uncle had talked to him... something about a letter. There had been a letter, hadn't there? Something strange... something that had frightened him... but he couldn't recall what it has been!

He decided to stop worrying for now in favour of getting up and finding out whether or not he was in trouble.

"Ah. Are you finally up, boy?" His Aunt snapped when he entered the kitchen.

There was no sign of his Uncle or his cousin being still in the house (and it wasn't likely that they were quietly sitting in some corner also), so it must be really late. "Mh, yes Aunt Petunia."

"Eat your toast. And hurry up, we have still to discuss a few things! And don't forget to take your medicine, boy!" Uh oh... this wasn't good. But at least he was allowed to eat breakfast. It couldn't be so bad then, could it? Obediently, he swallowed the pills lying next to his plate.

"So, boy," his Aunt said when he had barely swallowed the last piece of toast, „you will behave when we have this discussion! I won't tolerate anything like yesterday again! Do you understand!?"

"Yes Aunt Petunia. I'm sorry."

"Hmpf. As I have told you, you will attend a boarding school from September onwards. There will be no arguments! It has already been decided that you go to this school, there is no need for you to put up a fight, it didn't matter whether you want to or not, you WILL go! All right?"

"Mh - yes Aunt Petunia." It was all right to go to a school, wasn't it? Sure he, hadn't been attending one for quite some time, but he had always known that he couldn't stay in his cupboard forever. And apparently, he didn't have to go to the same school as Dudley did any more, so perhaps he wouldn't be bullied again. Well, of course, he was still a crazy freak, so it was possible that it didn't make any difference...

"Well, ok. I have already send your reply that you will attend, there should be someone visiting you in a few days time. The wi- person will explain everything you need to know and will accompany you to buy your school supplies." She had put one of the letters on the doormat (the one of the backdoor, of course. She couldn't risk any of the neighbours seeing a letter – or even an OWL! - at the frontdoor) so that any owl would be able to pick it up, and when she had looked early in the morning, it had indeed be gone! To be sure, she had make Vernon taking the second letter to the mailbox, too. Surely one of these two would reach the wizards.

"Ok."

"Good. Do you have any questions?"

"Um, why do I have to go to this school?"

"I have told you this already, boy! It's a special school for people like you and you HAVE to attend it because otherwise you will be a danger to decent people! And before you ask, no, it is NOT an asylum but a school for people with magic. Don't ask question and don't you DARE to behave like a madman again!"

"Uhm, but there is no magic. Uncle Vernon has said so..."

"Yes there IS magic! Just because normal people don't like to talk about it it doesn't mean that there isn't such a freaky thing! And don't ask questions, I don't know anything about it! Someone will come and explain everything, but I won't have you talking about such shameful, indecent stuff in my house! Now start your chores, boy! No arguments!"

And Harry did as he was told. What was there to do otherwise?  
He tried not to think too much about the things his Aunt had said. It didn't matter, did it? Nothing mattered. He just had to behave himself and everything would be all right, wouldn't it? No matter what kind of school this was, it couldn't be worse than being locked in a hospital, tied to a bed and forced to take medicine that made you ill, could it?

He had forced to stay in hospital three more times since the time they had put the tube in his nose. Well, the last time he had only been there for a few days, but it had been horrible nevertheless. Each time, they had given him different medicine. He had to take three different types of pills every day now and got injections every week. He didn't feel very different, though. To be true, he hadn't felt any differences since the first time he had been released from hospital. He had even grown used to the side effects of the drugs and it had been a long time since he had last been aware that feeling numb and rigid and only being able to move like some doll and having his eyes or mouth become cramped wasn't normal at all. It had also been quite some time since he had been really happy. Or sad, for the matter. Sometimes he got angry. But never for long, and never angry enough to throw a tantrum. This would be much to strenuous. And pointless. When the demon inside his head became angry, it was worse, though. Normally, his Aunt gave him some extra pills when the demon was angry, or even when he was delighted (normally it was when he had been able to hurt Harry again). He got to sleep pretty soon after he had taken the pills, so it didn't matter to him.

* * *

Five days later, there still hadn't been a reply. Petunia was worried. What should she do when the wizards hadn't gotten her letter? There simply HAD to be away to get rid of the boy! She had counted on him being away when he was old enough to go that... that school! There was no way she and her family could put up with him full-time for additional seven years!  
Perhaps they would contact her when the boy didn't appear when term has started?

She needn't have worried.

###

It was July 31st and Harry had just started his morning chores (weeding the garden, mowing the lawn, sweeping the terrace) when he heard something that sounded like someone was breaking the frontdoor (which was exactly what had happened, by the way), followed by a high-pitched scream from his Aunt and the bellowing of his Uncle. He stayed in the backyard, though, because he had long since learned that curiosity was one of the major sins. And of course, he couldn't very well go into the house when there might be a stranger who might see him, the freak. After a few minutes of shouting and more screaming (it sounded like Dudley had joined his parents and something had happened to him, at least if Harry had understood the screeching of his Aunt correctly) Aunt Petunia came to the backdoor and called Harry in-  
He gulped. Whatever had happened, he was quite sure he didn't want to be involved. Angry relatives were never a good sign, and if something had happened to Dudley, he was in for it! (It didn't matter that he hadn't been present during the entire thing. It was usually enough that he... well, existed, as far as his Uncle was concerned). Disobedience, though, was no alternative, since it had first been driven out by the Dursley's and later by Dr Green and the staff in hospital, and Harry went into the house.

And stopped dead just after he had crossed the threshold. There was standing a giant in the Dursley's living room!

The giant, though, had seen Harry entering the room and beamed at him, apparently unaware of the fact that the boy was shocked beyond words because of him.

"Well, hello Harry! I'm so glad to finally meet you!" When the boy continued to stare at him, mouth slightly open, he became a little unsure, but decided that the boy must simply be shy. "Well, ehm, yeah, my name is Hagrid. I'm the Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts. And Professor Dumbledore send me to answer your questions and to take you shopping!"

After a minute of rather awkward silence, Harry bolted from the room.

Well, that hadn't gone as he had thought it would.  
Dumbledore had asked him to fetch little Harry because it seemed that his aunt didn't know enough about magic to manage all the shopping and explaining a few days previously, and they had decided that it would be nice to visit little Harry on his 11st birthday. He had even baked a cake! And while he could understand that the muggles were angry with him for destroying their door, surely that wasn't an excuse for shouting insults at him! Well, Dumbledore MIGHT have thought about the fright it would give people like the Dursley's when suddenly there was a half-giant standing in there hall, but he wouldn't have send him if the Dursley's weren't very understanding and tolerant people, would he?  
And now the boy – Harry – was nothing like he had expected but small and pale and thin and apparently too frightened to stay in close proximity with him! The boy was a Gryffindor and NO Gryffindor had EVER been afraid of him! Somehow, this couldn't be right.

Well, since Harry didn't seem to want to talk to him, he had to clear this up with his Aunt. After all, she knew everything about the boy and about magic and Lily and, well, everything. "So, ehm, should I take the boy shopping now? Or would you rather accompany us? Or do you think I should answer his questions first? By the way, what does he need to know? I'm sure being Lily's sister you have been able to answer most of hist questions far better than I could!" He chuckled.

"You mean... The boy didn't know about anything! I don't care what you do with him but don't you dare to involve me or my family in this... freakishness! We have put up with the boy for TEN years, now it is YOUR responsibility to take care of him! Just answer his questions and take him shopping so that he can go to that blasted school!" Petunia was rather appalled that these wizards had dared to send the most freakish and obviously abnormal person they could find in order to retrieve her nephew. What would the neighbours think, having a giant in the house?! And then this- this person had the guts to hurt her son! Only because Vernon had shouted some insults at him after he had not only destroyed the door but talked about this freaky stuff in front of their SON! What did he think, contaminating Dudley with these sorts of things?! She knew it, she had known it all along, these wizards were just evil!

"Uhm, what do you mean, he didn't know about anything? You have told him everything about his parents and how they died and that he's famous and so on, have you?"

"Of course not!" Snapped Petunia, "we don't talk about this... this abnormality in this house!"

"Harry... Harry knows about NOTHING? But... but this isn't possible! Surely he must have noticed by now... and he is famous, he is a hero! How can he not know that he is a hero?!"

"We have put up with the little urchin because this Dumbledore-man forced us to do so! But you cannot expect us to tell the boy about his unnaturalness, and his blasted parents! This is a normal, decent house, and there neither was nor will be any talk about this freakishness!"

"But... how have you explained his scar? And his accidental magic? And him being famous? He MUST know something!"

"He knows he is a wizard because we told him a few days ago, after this... this letter came! But he doesn't know anything else! He is perfectly aware, though, that he is not to speak about his parents or anything freakishness in this house! As for your questions, he thinks he got the scar in the car-crash his parents were killed in. He didn't know he is famous because he isn't with normal, decent people! Only you freaks considered him famous but you'll notice soon enough that he isn't worth it! Oh, and he hasn't done any freaky things and even if he did, he knows better than to ask stupid questions!  
Now, there is something you should know: We never volunteered to take care of the boy! But this insolent Dumbledore-man..."

"Don't you DARE to insult Dumbledore! He is the greatest, bestest wizard that has ever lived!"

"Hmpf, then you can tell this great man that we won't take care of the freak any longer just because he thinks he can force us to do so by threatening our family! So either he removes the boy from this house or we will dump him in an orphanage! Oh, and you can tell him that we need some records to give his doctor because I won't allow my family being investigated by social service only because the freak disappeared!"

"Doctor?" Hagrid asked, blankly.

"Yes, Doctor. Isn't our fault he's a freak and even worse, mad! Had to pay lot of money to this bloody hospital!"

"But what IS a dotor?"

"What is...? YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT A DOCTOR IS?"

"Eh, no... perhaps it is something mugglish?"

"MUGGLISH? You freak you, how dare you? A doctor- well, it's a doctor. Medicine! Hospital!"

"Hospital?" This was a word Hagrid could make sense of. "You mean he is ill?"

"Yes. Quite so. And we need records! So can you arrange that, you oa- … can you?"

"So it's something... eh, something like a healer? This dotor-thing?"

"What the damn is a healer? The boy is ill. Therefore he has to go to a doctor. But we need records, so can you arrange this?"

"Yes, of course... I'll tell Dumbledore. Yes. But he isn't seriously ill, isn't he? He looks healthy!"

"HEALTHY?" Vernon had finally regained the ability to speak, "he is bloody insane! Has spend most of the time locked away in hospital! Complete lunatic, a danger to normal people! Would have killed himself long ago if he hadn't been locked up and taken all kind of drugs!"

"Vernon is right. You'd better tell your lot, the boy is not only a freak but completely mad! Don't know what's the matter with him but he has to take his medicine or he might kill himself or other! I just hope you have a room you can lock him in at that school!"

"Lock him up? But why should he be locked up? This is cruel! I'm sure he is perfectly all right once he is amongst people who understand him, who are like him, who have the same abilities! Dumbledore should never have left him with people like you, no... he will be furious... lock him up and call him ill just because he can do magic!" Hagrid muttered, more to himself than to the Dursley's.

"You don't understand, you oaf! He IS ill, crazy, mad, insane! And you better take care of him and give him his medicine otherwise he won't survive a week in your bloody school! Not that we care, though..."

"No, no, this isn't going to happen. Harry will be perfectly all right! I will speak to Professor Dumbledore and make sure he knows how the boy is treated here! Just wait, I bet he will come here right away once I have told him how do you treat the boy-who-lived! Oh, he won't be pleased, no... Know, where is he?"

"His cupboard, probably!"

"His CUPBOARD?"

"Well, yeah, the boy likes it. He chooses to sleep there! As I have told you, he's mad!"

This was actually almost true. After his second stay on the psychiatric ward, and after Dr Green had become more persistent that they might need help with the boy, Vernon and Petunia had decided to give him Dudley's second bedroom. After all, you couldn't know whether the psychiatrist might decided to call social service in order to „help" the family. And it wouldn't look good when the boy was discovered living in the cupboard under the stairs, even if most people would surely understand that Dudley simply NEEDED both bedrooms, having so many toys!  
However, Harry had refused to move to the bedroom. They had made him sleep there for a few nights, but every time he had crept back in his cupboard in the middle of the night. When they had locked him in, he had started to scream and howl, and while it didn't bother the Dursley's that their nephew was distressed, it simply wasn't possible to sleep with the boy making such a racket! And, of course, it was possible the next-door-neighbours might hear him!

"I WILL tell Dumbledore! Just wait, he won't be pleased, not at all! How DARE you to treat Harry like this... how DARE you...!"

"Just take the boy and hurry up! And don't forget to tell this Dumbledore that the he needs his medicine and constant supervision, I won't have you blaming us if something happens to the boy! And the records, we need records!"

"Yeah, well, every muggleborn get records... make sure you'll get them, too. Now, I take the boy shopping... he has to come back, though, in the evening. Dumbledore said so... has to stay here because it's safer this way. Can't leave before school starts. I make sure he has his ticket... mh, is there anything else?"

"I don't think so, the sooner you go the better! When you bring him back, just drop him off at the corner of Magnolia Crescent... he knows how to get back from there! I will not allow you to enter this house again! Having another freak in the house..." Petunia shuddered

"Oh, all right..." Hagrid might not have been the brightest man – or half-giant – on earth, but even he was aware that he stood out quite a bit, especially amongst muggles where no elves, goblins or other creatures were present to distract from his size.

"Right, Harry – where is the boy – HARRY?"

"In his cupboard! - Harry, you will come out this instant or you will be very sorry!"

###

Harry had tried not to listen to the conversation held between his Aunt, Uncle and this- was it a man? He had never before seen a human being this large, so perhaps it wasn't a human at all? Or was it just some kind of hallucination? He didn't normally have visual hallucination, but Dr Green had told him that it might happen. Perhaps he needed to take more medicine? Should he ask his Aunt to give him one of his extra Pills? He just wanted it all to stop. Why couldn't he be normal? He just wanted to be normal and healthy like everybody else! How many times had he tried to be normal, but it had never worked! His Aunt and Uncle still called him a freak and the demon in his head would still hurt him, even when he really, really tried to protect himself from this... thing. This was, actually, the reason he liked staying in his cupboard. He felt rather safe here. After the... incident that had landed him on the closed ward for the first time, his Aunt had put a thick layer of polystyrene onto the wall, so the demon couldn't hurt him as badly as it had this day. Of course, it was even more cramped now, put this was ok, as long as he was safe from this cruel being.

And now, rather than to becoming less freakish, he seemed to become even more crazy. A giant talking to his Aunt and asking him strange questions? This couldn't be. Surely this was a hallucination.

Just when he had arrived at that conclusion, he heard the voice of the hallucination-giant call his name. No no no no no... he didn't want to end up in hospital again, he didn't want to! They would make good on their threat to lock him up forever now! It mustn't happen, no, he couldn't bear it... if he just pretended not to see or hear the giant? Perhaps nobody would notice that he had become even more insane... he just had to act as if nothing was wrong. There wasn't a giant, giants weren't real, and he just had to pretend! He could pretend, he knew it, he was very good in pretending everything was all right! They wouldn't have led him leave the hospital if he hadn't been, after all. Once he had learned what things he wasn't to tell Dr Green, at least if he didn't want to be locked up even longer or get even more medicine, he had become really good in hiding and avoiding and pretending!  
But now his Aunt was calling him, too. - She was, wasn't she? He didn't imagine hearing her voice, did he? Deciding that the best course of action would be to find out (since he could always act as if he had just came out of his cupboard in order to go to the loo if he noticed that he had indeed imagined his Aunt calling him) he got up and opened the door.

Oh no. The giant was still there. He was standing in the living room and looked expectantly at Harry. Oh no no no. He just wanted to be left alone for gods sake!

"Ah, Harry! Now, can we go?"

Go? He wouldn't go anywhere with this giant! His Aunt, he had to look at his Aunt. Pretending not to see the giant, yes...

"Well, boy, you will go with him and buy everything you need for this... this school! Behave yourself and NO FUNNY BUSINESS! He will drop you off at Magnolia Crescent in the evening and you are to come here right away! Have I made myself clear?!"

"Yes Aunt Petunia. I..., um, I need to go with him- Uncle Vernon?"

"NO YOU STUPID BOY! You will go with – what's your name?"

"Hagrid, Rubeus Hagrid – Harry, you will come with me and we will go to Diagon Alley and buy all your Hogwarts stuff! It will be a great fun, you'll see!" The giant – Hagrid - was beaming at Harry.

"Yes, ehm, 'Hagrid', you will go with Mr Hagrid. I expect you back at 6, otherwise there will be... consequence." And with that, his Aunt turned around and left for the kitchen.

Through all of this, Vernon had remained in the living room, hidden behind Hagrid's large form. When the giant moved towards the frontdoor, though (stooped down and going sidewards, as the Dursley's hall was clearly not made for the use of a half-giant), Harry came face to face with his Uncle – who didn't seem to be pleased in the least. "Now, boy, get out of here, NOW! And don't you dare to bring funny stuff with you! I won't have things like this in my house!" And with a last, menacing glance at Hagrid, who had successfully reached the door, he left, too.

Leaving Harry alone, still unsure whether or not this was actually happening.

* * *

**Next chapter: Diagon Alley, Hagrid's naivety and wand-related problems!**


	8. Diagon Alley

_I don't own Harry Potter_

_Thank you to everyone who reviewed or added this story to his/her alert/favourite list! I hope you'll like the following chapter, and if you have any questions or suggestions for future chapters just leave a review! Though I have planned the rough outline of this story, there is still room for additional elements!_

_MOI reviewed as a guest, and I would like to point out that you might find some of the elements you have described in your reviews for my other story in this very story, just be patient;)_

* * *

**Chapter 8 - Diagon Alley**

.

Harry didn't know what to do. After they had left the Dursley's, the giant had brought him to a train-station and they had taken a train to London. Through all of this, the giant had talked constantly. At first, Harry had tried to listen, but after a while he had decided it would be better to zone out. Not only that he didn't understand most of the things that – he – was talking about, but the little bit he did understand was rather... worrisome.  
Apparently, the giant (Harry had decided to pretend he was real for the time being, since this seemed to be the most likely probability after his Aunt had forced him to go with the giant.) had known his parents. This meant he must be pretty old, didn't it? After all, HE didn't remember his parents at all, and he was 11. Therefore, they had died a long time ago.  
It confused him that the giant kept talking about them, though. Aunt Petunia never did. Perhaps the giant was crazy, too? Because normal people wouldn't talk about freaks. He knew that his parents were freaks just like he himself was one. Uncle Vernon made sure to remained him every other day. And it made sense, didn't it? If his parents had been freaks, it was easy to tell that he was one, too.

"...ry?"

But he talked about other things, too. Things that were far more frightening than the stuff about his parents. Harry didn't want to hear such crazy stuff! He would have to tell Dr Green and then Dr Green would keep him in hospital again and he would be tied to his bed again for days or weeks and they would made him take more medicine and he would feel even more dizzy than he felt now... no, he didn't want this! He didn't want to hear about magic and wizards and witches and something called "hogwarts". No no no no.

"HARRY!"

"Hu?" Harry looked at the giant questioning. Why was he shouting at him? Had he done something wrong?

"Were you day-dreaming, boy?" The giant chuckled, "I have called you for ages now! Hope it was a pleasant dream, little one," he winked, "but we'll arrive in London every minute now, so we have to get ready to head to Di... eh, shopping."

Oh. That had been fast. He was quite sure that they hadn't been on the train for more than 10 minutes, but this couldn't be. You had to drive at least an hour to reach the inner parts of London. Perhaps the giant had done some of this magic-stuff? NO NO NO NO NO HE MUSTN'T THING THIS! Magic wasn't real, it was just in his head, he mustn't become even crazier than he already was! Trying to calm down (though the giant didn't seem to had notice anything about Harry's sudden flash of panic) he noticed that said giant was putting away something that looked like a big, yellow circus-tent. This got weirder by the minute.

When they had left the train, the giant told him they needed to find the underground. Harry, never having been in London, didn't know where to go. After a few minutes, though, he noticed the signs saying "U". Perhaps this meant underground? He didn't dare to tell the giant, though. Most adults didn't like it if a child knew something they didn't.  
In the end, they made it to the underground, and apparently the right one, too, since after only a few stops the giant told Harry that they had arrived at their destination. It was one of the most crowded streets Harry had ever seen. Not that he had seen many, to be honest. He didn't like it. People were bustling around, shoving and poking and pushing him, and a few times he almost tripped. The giant wasn't a great help either. Just when Harry thought he couldn't bear it anymore, the giant motioned him to go through a shabby-looking door. Doubtful, he did as he was told. And caught sight of the strangest place he had ever seen. No no no no... this couldn't be true. Please, no, it mustn't be true!

"Ah, Hagrid!" An odd-looking man rushed towards the two of them. Hagrid? His name was Harry!

"Hello, Tom" said the giant. Oh. Perhaps it was the giant's name?

"...no, don't have time, am here to help little Harry Potter buy his Hogwarts-stuff!"

What followed was one of the worst panic-attacks Harry had ever experienced. People all around him, surrounding him, looming over him, trapping him - no, he had to get out! They mustn't catch him! He had to go away or they would lock him in, tie him up, making him unable to move, to fight, to do anything... he dimly heard someone screaming – oh no, oh no, now they are giving me an injection again! - and now someone was grabbing his arm, forcing him into the monitoring-room, no no NO! - And then it was over.

As soon as he had noticed that the boy didn't like the attention at all but seemed to be a bit afraid of the crowds of people, Hagrid had taken Harry by his arm and led him away, after a few words to the excited people who couldn't believe that their saviour, their hero was indeed here! Perhaps the boy was a bit shy? Funny, every time when he had imagined what Lily's and James' little son would be like he had pictured a self-assured and confident little boy. Nah, it must be the shock of entering a whole new world for the first time that made Harry act this way. Once he became accustomed to all the attention, he would be fine.

"Hello Professor Quirrell! - Harry, this will be one of your teachers at Hogwarts... Harry?" Was the boy day-dreaming again? Seemed to be some sort of habit. Oh, the Professors wouldn't be pleased with that. He just hoped they wouldn't give little Harry a hard time. Well, perhaps he could speak in his favour, after all, he was such a nice and quite boy. Surely a boy who was occasionally lost in thoughts wasn't as bad as a new prankster like the boy's father had been?  
Deciding that it wasn't worth to catch Harry's attention in order to greet a Professors who seemed to be rather uncomfortable being amongst so many people (there was no other reason Professor Quirell might be this nervous, wasn't there?) anyway, Hagrid led the boy to the backyard of the Leaking Cauldron, tipped the brick with his wa- eh, umbrella – and was somewhat disappointed when Harry didn't seemed to be amazed at all.

Well, perhaps he was TOO shocked and thrilled about this amazing world to be able to express it?

###

Harry had somewhat calmed down when he noticed that he and the giant were alone again, even if it was a dirty little yard they were currently standing. The giant – Hagrid? - was tapping at some bricks. That was strange. Perhaps he was a compulsive counter? On the ward had once been a boy around his age who counted everything he saw. Harry had been slightly disturbed by the fact that there were apparently odd numbers of tiles in every bathroom except that from room 7.

He was – again - distracted from his musings when suddenly the wall split in two and a busy street (so not as busy as the street outside this strange place) came into view.

"Welcome," Hagrid said (rather pompously), "to Diagon Alley!"

If Harry hadn't been sure whether anything he had experienced this day had been real, now the matter was set. It WAS his craziness that made him see and hear all this weird stuff. It simply couldn't be true, no. No street would ever look like this. The buildings on either side of it seemed to be more suitable to the Middle Ages and there simply was no way that shops would offer all kind of body-parts from animals that either didn't exist at all or were regarded as endangered species. And then the people... no, he was finally going REALLY mad.

Hagrid, oblivious to Harry's horror, tramped on and only noticed that something was off when he heard a faint whimper, closely followed by running footsteps and a door being opened forcefully.

"Harry? HARRY?" Where was the boy? He had just been there, but now he couldn't see him anywhere? Had he seen something that frightened him? It was true, Hagrid didn't know much about muggles and their world, but he was well aware that Diagon Alley was as un-mugglish as anything could be. But he had seemed so amazed when he had first looked into the Alley, so why should he be afraid now? Well, since he would have seen the boy if he had run into the Alley, he must have went back into the Leaky Cauldron. So perhaps he just had forgotten something he wanted to fetch?

Hagrid decided to wait whether the boy would turn up, but after 10 Harry-less minutes he had to admit that something must have happened. Hopefully, no one had abducted him, Dumbledore would never forgive him such carelessness and he would surely be send to Azkaban for endangering (or even killing!) the saviour of the wizarding world! Poor little Harry, he must be sooo worried right now!  
Ok, what should he do now? Fire-calling Dumbledore? Or the Aurors? But what if the boy was just playing a prank on him? Sure, he hadn't seemed like the type of child doing something like this, but, after all, he _was_ the son of James Potter! Best to search for the boy himself before he send for help unnecessarily.

When he entered the Leaky Cauldron, all he could do was gawking.

"Hagrid, finally! You have to get him out of here, the people got all crazy when he came back!" That was Tom.

"You have him locked in the bathroom?!" Hagrid yelled, furious, "what are you thinking?" This seemed to be exactly what was happening. Tom was standing in front of the door that lead to the public toilet, arms extended, fiercely gripping the door frame, while a crowd of people was apparently trying to free the poor boy.

"Of course not, Hagrid, he ran in there himself – what did happen, was there an attack? The boy looked worse for wear! - well, but the people won't leave him alone, as soon as they saw him they started to scream and tried to grab him – he didn't seem to like it, though, ran straight into bathroom, locking himself into one of the stalls – you have to get him out of there, the people won't calm down and will wreck the pub!" He seemed rather desperate.

"Ok, well," Hagrid answered gruffly, "just let me through."

* * *

Harry screamed. He didn't know what was happening, he didn't know where he was or why or how, but he didn't want this! He just wanted to be in his cupboard, his cupboard was safe! Or even on the ward, the ward would be better than being trapped in this nightmare! All the people – trying to catch him and hurt him – and this place – this couldn't be true, no no no!  
When he had run from that weird street back to the door they had come from, he had hoped he would be able to reach the other door and go back to the normal world. That was, if the normal world still existed. He wasn't so sure. Everything seemed to become more insane by the minute.

But he had never managed to reach the other door, let alone going back to some place that could me considered normal, because as soon as he had entered the room people had started advancing on him. He had tried to hide underneath a table, but the people had seen him, then he tried to crawl to the counter, hoping he would somehow be able to make it to the other side of the room (where the door that perhaps, perhaps led to normality was situated), and while becoming even more desperate (because people approaching the counter from BOTH sides) he had seen another escape route.  
Behind the almost-hidden door, it turned out, the bathroom was located, and while not the escape to normality he had hoped for he was at least able to lock himself up now, meaning he was somewhat save from all this madness.

"Harry! Harry stop this screaming and come out! We really have to do your shopping now!" Hagrid tried to get the boy's attention.

But Harry, rather predictably, didn't listen. Well, perhaps he hadn't heard him in the first place, his screaming was rather loud. Poor bloke, most have been shocked by all the attention he got, surely it wasn't easy becoming accustomed to being a celebrity.

"Harry, come on, I will open the door now, all right?" Without waiting for a reply, which he wasn't likely to receive anyway, he pulled the door open, hardly aware that the door had been locked.

The sight of the boy, huddled up in the corner of the small room, his eyes pressed shut, hands over his ears, rocking forwards and backwards (and sometimes even knocking his head against the wall in the process), screaming incessantly, was something even Hagrid wouldn't forget very soon. The poor boy! Must be really, REALLY afraid!

"Harry, come on, we need to go now. Can't stay in here all day, poor Tom won't be able to hold off the crowd much longer! Now, stand up and we will just go back to Diagon Alley, all right? Everything will be all right, little one, I know, the first time seeing a place like this can be a bit overwhelming, especially for you, being the boy who lived an' all. Now, come on!"

He grabbed him by his collar, pulling him up, and was just about to hug the boy when he felt a small fist punching his side. "Hey, Harry! What's the matter?" It hadn't hurt, not really, but it was still a bit disconcerting to see a child – Harry Potter! - fighting him as if he was some kind of monster! "No, Harry, this has to stop now! Everything is all right, we will just go shopping now and forget about the whole incident, all right? Come on -"

###

Harry didn't know what was happening. After he had found himself in the relatively safety of the bathroom, he hadn't had the energy to pay attention to his surroundings any longer. He just wanted it all to end. He couldn't do this any more, it had to stop! No, he didn't want to fight any longer, this demons in his head got only worse. Why couldn't his head be normal like everyone else', too? He didn't want to hear and see and feel strange things, he just wanted it all to be quiet! Quiet! But someone was screaming and talking and demanding attention... no! No no no!

He wasn't aware that at least the screaming was his own doing. He wasn't aware that he had started rocking again, too. Dr Green had once seen him doing it, and told him it was another sign that he was mentally ill and had to take more medicine, and he had tried to avoid doing so henceforth.

Suddenly someone grabbed him.

Reacting on instinct, he tried to fight the person off. But all the beating and kicking didn't make the other person loosen his grip, and finally he stopped. He was somewhat aware that he was on his feeds again. And he seemed to be walking. He couldn't remember having started to walk. Where was he going? There seemed to be someone next to him, very close, too close. But he couldn't go away. He tried to shift, to put a little more space between himself and the other person, but to no avail. What was going on? No no, no thinking, thinking wasn't good, it just made everything worse. No thinking, no speaking, no feeling, this normally was the best course of action in situations like these. Just pretending to be non-existent, non-human. Then, sometimes, he managed to convince even himself that he didn't exist, that he wasn't a human – or any being, for the fact.

###

Hagrid was glad that Harry had stopped fighting. The boy was quiet now and did everything he was told to do. He didn't speak, mind, but this had to be because he was shy, hadn't it? He had known it all along, Harry Potter would be a nice, quiet, lovely child that wouldn't cause any trouble at all! No matter what some of the teachers kept saying – well, one of them, to be precise – Hagrid had been sure that Harry wouldn't turn out to be a trouble-maker!  
This little – incident – had just been because the boy had been nervous and overtaxed with all the attention he got, no meaning had to be attached to it. He needn't tell Dumbledore, or anyone, what he had seen in the bathroom. HE wouldn't be the one to damage the boy's reputation! It had been an exception, that was for sure, and every child could make mistakes! No, Hagrid had decided he rather liked the little boy and would do everything to help him cover up the slips he might make due to being nervous and new to everything wizard-ish.

They had re-entered the Alley, and Hagrid made sure to hold Harry's hand tightly. Surely this would reassure the boy? He told him that they had to go to Gringotts first, in order to retrieve his money. He didn't argue, so it must be fine with him.  
Hagrid was reassured by the fact that Harry didn't show any signs of fear when they came face to face with the Goblins. The boy was indeed a true Gryffindor, brave and all! He refused to enter his vault, though, but thankfully Griphook took care of it. Well, the Gringotts vaults WERE a bit dark, and the bottomless gorge underneath the card made even Hagrid nauseous!

When they had re-emerged and stepped into the sunlight of Diagon Alley, Hagrid briefly considered visiting the Leaky Cauldron once more (the Gringotts-cards really needed to be charmed against sea-sickness! – or was it underground-sickness?) but dismissed the idea since it wouldn't do to prolong this shopping-tour. Even so most of the people didn't seem to recognize the boy (or at least behaved themselves better than those oafs in the pub!), it was only a matter of time until the rumour of the boy-who-lived visiting Diagon Alley had spread. No, he wouldn't expose the poor boy to more stares and pointing than absolutely necessary!

Their next stop was Madame Malkin's. Just when they approached the entrance-door, a pale, blonde boy exited the shop, all by himself. Poor bloke, his parents must have dropped him off, not caring whether or not their son (who couldn't be much older than Harry) was able to fend for himself. But before Hagrid could offer him assistance, he had vanished (after a haughty look at the apparent halfblood-savage, which Hagrid had missed, though). Fitting Harry for his Hogwarts-robes didn't take very long, and Madam Malkin's complimented him on how still he had stood throughout the procedure. Most boy's his age couldn't stand still for more than two minutes, after all.

The rest of their shopping-tour went equally well, and Hagrid was pleased that he had been able to give the boy a beautiful snowy-owl as a birthday present. It had been a bit disappointing that Harry hadn't thanked him, but well, he was sure he had seen a grateful smile on the boy's face and this was enough, wasn't it? After all, it was common knowledge that children were often very shy when it came to saying „thank you" to adults, and Hagrid wasn't blind, he knew very well how to read the boy's body-language, and it clearly said how very, very delighted he was about his new pet!

* * *

Finally, only Ollivander's was left. But if Hagrid had thought the Harry would be more excited about getting his wand than he had been about the books, potions-supplies and everything else, he had been mistaken. The boy gave no sign of enthusiasm when they approached the gloomy-looking shop, and even the atmosphere (that gave Hagrid a creeping feeling every time he entered the store) didn't seem to affect him in the slightest.

"Ah, Mr Potter... yes, I wondered when I would see you..."

"Hello Mr Ollivander! Are here to buy little Harry's wand!"

"Yes, yes, I expected this... now, Mr Potter, what's you wand arm?"

After a few seconds of silence, Hagrid thought it necessary to inform Mr Ollivander that the boy was a bit shy but that he normally used his right hand for everything he did. Mr Ollivander didn't seemed to be bothered by the fact that Harry didn't acted like the average eleven-year-old he normally was used to, but just continued his ramblings about different types of wand-cores, woods, the wands of Harry's parents and so on. Simultaneously, he brought various wand to the counter, and when the tape measure had finally finished its job, he presented the first one (Beechwood and dragon heartstrings) to the still-silent boy. And was startled when it fell onto the ground.

"Mr Potter! You are supposed to take the wand! - Now, try it out!" Ollivander had summoned the wand from the floor and tried to hand it over again. However, Harry still showed no sign of having heard what he should do but just kept looking onto the floor. Trying to get his attention, Ollivander reached forward, put his index finger under the boy's chin and tried to look into his eyes.

The unexpected touch seemed to have worked, since Harry lifted his head on his own and looked around the room. He gave no sign, though, of being interested – or at least aware of – what was going on.

"Mr Potter, you are to take the wand and give it a wave!"

Harry looked, unblinkingly, at the strange man who was standing inches away from him, trying to force his hand around a thin stick. Not understanding at all what was going on, where he was or who the man was, he took the stick, obedience being one of the most deeply ingrained behaviours.

"Now, give it a wave!"

And he did. As did he with the next and the next but one. But nothing happened. Harry, quite oblivious to his surroundings or the purpose of it all, and additionally used to doing strange things because other people (outside his head as well as inside-living ones) wanted him to do so, wasn't at all bothered by the fact that even the forth, the fifth and the sixth wand gave no sign whatsoever that they were more than ordinary sticks. Ollivander and Hagrid, though, cast worried glances at each other. What was going on? Why weren't the wands working for the boy-who-lived? Normally, every wand in the hand of a wizard gave a sign of at least a tiny bit of magic, even if it might be feeble or even damaging. But NO reaction at all? Well, that didn't happen often. In fact, neither Hagrid nor Mr Ollivander (and this was saying something!) could recollect a similar incident.  
But the boy WAS a wizard, wasn't he? It was simply impossible for the child of Lily and James Potter, the conqueror of you-now-who, the hero of the wizarding world, NOT to be a wizard!

Deciding to try a few of the more unusual wands, Ollivander left for the back room of his shop while Hagrid was left with a completely undisturbed looking Harry. Nevertheless, the half-giant thought it would be a good think to reassure the boy.

"Not to worry, little one, we'll find a wand for you! Happens sometimes. Not everyone can work with every wand! Just are a special boy, aren't you, Harry?" Ollivander returned, bringing more boxes. Some of the looked rather old and dusty. "Now, Mr Potter, if you would just try this one? Ebony and unicorn hair, an unusual combination..."

But still, nothing happened. Even when Ollivander made the boy taking one of the most powerful wand currently in his possession (holly and phoenix-feather), the wand he had thought would surely work for the boy-who-lived, the wand he had saved exactly for this occasion, the boy showed no sign of being a wizard.

No. It couldn't be. The boy-who-lived could not be a squib!

###

To be reasonable, it really _couldn't_ be. His name wouldn't have appeared on the list of new Hogwarts-students if he hadn't been a wizard, he wouldn't have gotten a letter if their had been any doubts that he was unable to attend Hogwarts, and, last but not least, Harry would not have been able to go back to the Leaky Cauldron on his own if he didn't posses magical talent.

Squibs and even muggles could, of course, enter the pub and the Alley, but not only had a witch or wizard to accompany them but skin-contact was required, at least until they had actually entered one of these locations. On their own, non-magical people were unable to even see the places!

So what was going on? Why was no wand compatible with the boy?

"I like this!"

Both Hagrid and Ollivander had been deep in thoughts and were startled by the voice of the boy. Since when did he talk? He hadn't talked since... well, Hagrid wasn't sure he had heard him saying something at all. Apart from that screaming in the bathroom of the Leaky Cauldron, of course. Thinking about it, this _was_ rather strange. Most children weren't as quiet as Harry, were they? Well, he was shy! But now he was talking... it didn't make any sense for Hagrid, so he decided to stop thinking about it. It couldn't be very important anyway, could it?

"You like what?" Hagrid asked him.

"I like this - this stick!"

"Stick? You mean wand, don't you? Stick, honestly!" Mr Ollivander was a bit put off by the boy's naming of his precious items.

"Yes. I like it. I... I want it!" He repeated and pointed at the last wand Ollivander had taken from him. It was the holy and phoenix feather wand.

"You want THIS wand?" Ollivander demanded.

"Yes. I want this... wa-, this. Yes."

"But why this particular one? Did you feel something, a quiver or trembling perhaps? Or something like meeting a long-lost friend? Or some kind of warmth? Or a flow of energy, power, well, any kind of unusual stream? Or perhaps it felt more like happiness, a buzzing of some kind that spread through your whole body? Or was it some kind of attachment, connection, like the wand was a part of your body you haven't been aware was missing? Or something else, perhaps..." He got excited, and missed the confused look on both Harry's and Hagrid's face.  
Perhaps the boy had indeed a connection with this wand. Perhaps there wasn't a problem after all, perhaps it was just... well, it was possible that he had his magic more under control than the usual eleven-year-old...

"Ehm, Mr Ollivander?"

... Or could perhaps he had blocked some of his talents, being afraid of it? This was quite possible, after all, many muggle-borns only displayed accidental magic on very few occasions, in contrast to children from wizarding families. It was only natural for a child to suppress everything frightening...

"Hagrid, Harry lived with his muggle-relatives, didn't he?"

"Yes yes... do you think it could have anything to do with it?"

"Yes... indeed, yes. It is quite possible... Mr Potter?"

"Please, I really really like this one. I'll be good, I promise!"

"Yes, child, of course you can have it! You need a wand, after all! But have you felt anything I mentioned? Warmth or a quiver or some kind or energy or, well, anything?"

Harry looked at him, unsure of what to say. He liked this stick. It felt very good holding it. It made him feel calm. Not „calm" in the way his medicine made him feel, but in a more peaceful, restful way. It was a friendly calm. Yes, he liked touching the stick. It would be so great if he could have it. He had almost felt... save. Like he was finally not longer alone in his fight against the demon in his head. But this was stupid. How could a stick help him fighting the demon when all the treatment he had gotten until now hadn't helped? It was ridiculous, wasn't it?  
He still wasn't sure what was going on. He had hardly any recollection of the past few hours. Or had it only been minutes since the giant – Hagrid – had grabbed him in that bathroom? He didn't know. All felt very woozy. He hoped he would be able to go home soon.

But he really, _really_ wanted this stick!  
But the strange man – the other man, not the Hagrid-man – just kept asking weird questions. He tried not to listen, it made his head hurt. But he supposed he wouldn't get the stick. Disobedient children didn't get anything they wanted. Yes, Harry was quite aware that he was very naughty and bad not answering the man's questions. But he couldn't gather the strength to do so. Well, perhaps he had just imagined the good feeling anyway. It didn't really matter.

"Ehm, well, Mr Ollivander... don't think Harry'll answer your questions... quite a shy boy. Eh, would you mind selling us this wand now? We really need to go on... have to go back to Surrey, after all – oh, no... well, just don't mention anything, not supposed to say this – well, Harry, here, has to go back to his relatives until September 1st.

"Oh, well, yes, I'm sorry, of course, yes, got all excited...this would be seven Galleons, Mr Potter."

Hagrid, who had kept the money Harry – or rather Griphook – hat withdrawn from his vault after Harry had almost left the pouch in the card when they had disembarked, paid Mr Ollivander, who wrapped up the wand and tried to hand it over to the boy. However, he just stared at him.

"I can have it?" Asked Harry incredulous, „really?" This couldn't be true. He must have misunderstood the man.

"Of, course, Mr Potter! What a question. I'm sure you will do great things... doesn't happen every day an eleven-year-old can control his magic in a way you did... nice prank, Mr Potter, yes... almost had me worry, indeed..."

* * *

**.**

**Next chapter: How to tell Dr Green about Harry's upcoming ****disappearance, Hedwig and a brief glimpse into Hogwarts!**


	9. Not everything are hallucinations

_I don't own Harry Potter_

_To Man of Constant Sorrow and anybody else who might have worried, this story **will **have a happy ending, and though I can't promise that everything will be fine once Harry arrives at Hogwarts, I won't leave Harry wthout help & support for long (though some wizards are a bit thick...).  
Another thing I would like to point out (though it might be a bit confusing), Harry isn't crazy. His "crazy" behaviour is the doing of the horcrux, and of course he is affected by the medicine, but he isn't mentally ill in the "normal" sense._

_Thank you for all the reviews, I'm really happy that so many of you seems to like my story!_

* * *

**Chapter 9 - Not everything are hallucinations  
**

.

"Ah, Hagrid... I trust everything went well?" Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School Of Witchcraft And Wizardry, Chief Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, owner of the Order Of Merlin (First Class), and greatest wizard since - well, since Merlin himself, at least as far as Hagrid was concerned – sat behind his enormous desk, twinkling at the half-giant who had just entered his office.

"Yes, Headmaster Dumbledore, of course, everything just fine. Such a nice and quite boy, little Harry. Looks almost exactly like James – except for his eyes, of course. Haven't met a more well-behaved first-year for quite some time, Professors Dumbledore, Sir... no, will be a pleasure to have little Harry here. Very eager to learn about magic, had to tell him everything I know - oh, well, that Aunt of him – Lily's sister – she has never told him much about magic and Hogwarts and his parents... don't quite understand it..."

"Ah, well, I think this was to be expected. Though I confess, I hoped Petunia would have moved on and would no longer hold a grudge against the wizarding world. Well, perhaps some wounds are too deep to ever heal properly... well, but she took the boy in. She treat the boy well, I suppose?"

"Yes, yes, Headmaster, Sir! Well... she might have been a bit strict... but everything seemed to be fine. Harry is quite a shy boy, you know... didn't tell me much about his life with the muggles, but he would have said something if he had been unhappy, I'm sure. No... his relatives might not be the most warm-hearted people – unlike Lily and James – but they treat him all right, yes, all right.  
Oh, she said me she needed records! I told her I would arrange this... mentioned something about... eh, some kind of dot... dotor who would need to know where little Harry would be going..." Hagrid frowned. He had almost forgotten that Harry's aunt had told him something about this strange dotor-person. But the boy was healthy. After all, he had just spend an entire day with him and he would have noticed if he had some kind of illness!

"Dotor?" Dumbledore inquired.

"Ah, well, not sure about this... might even have misunderstood her. I think she mentioned something about a dotor being some kind of muggle-healer. Little Harry is quite healthy, so! But perhaps this is something muggles do? Taking children to healers even if they are healthy?"

"Hm, I'm not sure about it... but you said he seemed to be healthy?"

"Yes, Professors Dumbledore, quite healthy, little Harry! I'm sure there is nothing wrong with him!"

"Hm... so did you notice anything unusual about the boy?" Dumbledore didn't want to reveal that he had been a little bit worried whether the boy had fared well. There was, after all, the possibility that the killing curse while not having managed to kill him had done something else.

Hagrid briefly thought about the incident in the bathroom... and the fact that the boy had hardly spoken during the day. But well... he really didn't want to bring the boy into trouble. And his aunt would have told him if something would be seriously wrong with him. Calling him a freak didn't count, since this was only another word for wizard, wasn't it? "No Professors, Sir, everything is fine with the boy. A bit quite and shy, perhaps, nothing like James in this regard, but completely normal and healthy and happy!"

"Well, all right, then. I will tell Minerva to prepare records for him as well. Shouldn't be a problem, no matter what this dotor is... I trust you have taken care of Harry receiving his ticket and know everything about how to enter the platform?"

"Of course, made sure he knows everything! Left the ticket with his aunt so he wouldn't lose it!" He HAD told the boy about how to go to the right platform, hadn't he? He couldn't quite remember, having told Harry about everyone and everything. But yes, he was sure he had mentioned the Hogwarts Express, and Kings Cross, and Platform Nine and Three-Quartes. Yes, he had!

"Ah, yes, I expected nothing less of you." Dumbeldore twinkled, „Hm, how did the shopping go? Did you experienced any problems?"

"Ah, well, some people in the Leaky Cauldron got a bit over-excited but we managed to get rid of them. Had a little trouble finding a wand, though. Don't think I have ever seen someone having to try so many wands before. But he got a fine one, in the end, even Ollivander said so. Quite a powerful one, indeed!"

"Yes, yes... Mr Ollivander owled me already about this... yes, curious, both the wand and the control Harry already has over his magic, yes... I think we will be in for some surprises..."

He didn't know how right he was.

* * *

When Hagrid walked back to his hut, he hummed contently and thought about Harry. He had been quite eager to be the one who would visit the boy, and although he normally didn't have anything to do with introducing muggles-borns to the wizarding world and do all the shopping and explaining, Harry Potter was a special case. He wasn't a muggle-born, after all, and he already knew about magic and stuff, so there hadn't been the need for someone more knowledgeable to go see the boy. And furthermore, you couldn't trust just everyone with accompanying the boy-who-lived, he had to be protected! He was proud to say that Dumbledore trusted him enough to do so!

The teachers had mostly been relieved that Hagrid would be the one to deal with Harry Potter, since they had to meet all the other muggle-borns and their parents. It usually took quite some time, many parents weren't so sure about the whole magic-business – quite understandable, of course – and some needed a little bit..., ehm, encouragement to let their child attend Hogwarts. No, he didn't think he would do a very good job introducing complete strangers to the new world – he WAS rather large and wild-looking – but Harry Potter was a different matter! Though he thought he had seen a hint of jealousy in Professor McGonagall's eyes when Dumbledore had told her that she needn't worry about Harry – who would, after all, be in her house from September onwards – but that Hagrid would take care of the matter.

After they had left Ollivanders – in quite a hurry, to be true, since the shop-owner had started to talk about you-know-who and some kind of connection to the wand Harry had chosen (which was all rubbish, as far as Hagrid was concerned, there wasn't ANY connection between the evil wizard and the good and famous Harry Potter! It was simply impossible!) and Hagrid didn't want that the boy would start worrying – they had went back to the Leaky Cauldron. Thankfully, it had been much quieter now, and Tom had been kind enough to seat them in a hidden corner so that they were left in peace.  
And while Hagrid wasn't eager to do so, he hadn't missed the confused looks of the boy when the mob had started to scream and going crazy as soon as they had entered the pub for the first time. Someone NEEDED to tell the little boy about his fame and you-know-who. His aunt _was_ a muggle, after all, she could never have told him everything, answering every question the boy might have had. He had been rather shocked to discover, though, that Harry hadn't known his parents had been murdered or that he was famous at all.

"Your Aunt never told you about - well, about anything?" He asked the boy, who had, apparently, overcome some of his shyness and kept talking even after they had left the wand shop.

"Uhm, not really... I'm sorry."

"But you're famous!"

"No."

"Yes! You and your parents... you-know-who, he killed them. And even tried to kill you! This is why you are famous, because you survived and you-know-who vanished!"

"No."

Hagrid wasn't sure he had managed to convince the boy, but in the end, he had stopped saying "no" all the time. So that must mean he had believed him, mustn't it? Hagrid had made sure to tell him everything else he needed to know before going to Hogwarts as well, though he was appalled by the amount of things the boy hadn't known! Perhaps Lily had told her sister less about the wizarding world than they all had expected her to do? Well, he had informed little Harry about all the things he thought would help the boy finding his place and feel at home in this world he belonged to. Quidditch, for example! You couldn't go to Hogwarts without knowing about Quidditch! Oh, and of course he had told him about his parents, especially about his father and all the funny pranks he (and some friends of him) had pulled while being at Hogwarts. Or about the teachers – that Professor Quirell, the Defence Against The Dark Arts teacher was a little bit nervous and twitchy ever since he had travelled around the world. And that he should make sure to pay attention to Professor McGonagall – his future head of house – since she wouldn't put up with any nonsense.

Harry had asked what houses the teachers were head to, and this has resulted in Hagrid questioning whether Harry's Aunt had withhold information purposefully, since she simply _must_ have known about Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin, there was no way Lily wouldn't have talked about them while staying at home! But this couldn't be, could it? Why should she have done such a thing?

Well, he had explained everything about the for Houses of Hogwarts – though he had managed not to tell the boy about the actual sorting! -, that they were kind of your family while being in school, that students of one house shared dormitories and common rooms and had classes together and that each house valued different character traits and talents. Oh, he had told Harry not to worry too much about the houses, since it was clear that he would end up being a Gryffindor, but the boy had seemed to be interested in the whole house-business and so he had made sure he knew everything Hagrid himself knew about it.

"Well, Ravenclaw is the house all the smart kids go. Are all really eager to learn, even have their own library in the common room! Yo' have to be really intelligent and stuff for being a Ravenclaw. Professor Flitwick – he teaches charms – is their head of house. Hm, then there is Slytherin, they are kind of creepy, if you ask me. Wasn't a bad wizard who weren't in Slytherin, you know... many who turned out being followers of you-know-who were there as well... no, just make sure to stay as far away from them as possible, ' am not so sure they wouldn't hurt you... no, no, bad people, there, bad people... Even their common room is located in the dungeons. Very cunning an' all, can't really trust them not to plot something against you. Ah, well, I shouldn't tell you this – there are many prejudices, you know – but, ah, can't leave you on your own devices... you have to know what to expect... Professor Snape is their head of house. Quite strict and all, but Professor Dumbledore is trusting him, so he must be all right, I suppose. Teaches potions, Professor Snape. Well, but you don't have to worry about Slytherin, being the boy-who-lived an' all. No, no, the sor- eh, well, no one would ever place you there.  
Hm, then there is, of course, Gryffindor. It's the opposite of Slytherin, you can say. Very brave and honest and kind-hearted and loyal, the Gryffindors, yeah. Dumbledore himself was there! Always fight the evil wizards, Gryffindors, very good people, indeed... Professor McGonnagal is their head of house, she teaches transfiguration. Really difficult subject, transfiguration, were never really good in it myself... but, well, this just proves that not all smart people end up in Ravenclaw. Your parents were Gryffindors, of course. They would be really proud if they could see you now... ready to go to Hogwarts an' all, a brave an' good young man, just like your father..." Hagrid broke of, blew his nose and tried to gather himself. Poor Lily, poor James...  
"Well, and finally there is Hufflepuff. They say all the kids who don't fit in any of the other houses go there... but well, they are very friendly and loyal and always look out for each other, you know. ' suppose they are all right, Hufflepuffs, yeah... very kind-hearted, you won't find a Hufflepuff starting a fight. Hm, Professor Sprout is Hufflepuff's head of house, teaches herbology. Quite like her, always very friendly, have met her a lot, being the grounds-keeper and she staying in her greenhouses all day."

Seeing that Harry looked somewhat terrified, he had broken off. Why would the boy be terrified about the school houses? Or perhaps it was just that everything was new to him and he had trouble remember everything? "Don't worry, Harry, most children don't know much about these things before they come to Hogwarts for the first time. You won't have problems, everything will be new ans exciting for all of your classmates, too!"

This didn't seem to help much, though, and after a few more minutes of reassuring the boy Hagrid had decided that Harry was overwrought and that it would be better to bring him back to his relatives. After all, they had finished their shopping, he had answered the boy's questions – so far he actually had any -, had made sure he knew that he was famous and stuff... there wasn't anything else Dumbledore had wanted him to do, was there? He had even managed to retrieve the stone just as he was told to do! Dumbledore would be really pleased...

The train-ride back to Little Whinging had gone smoothly, although he almost forgot that he was supposed to bring the boy to Magnolia Crescent instead of Number 4 Privet Drive. It was only when Harry stopped walking and, after an inquiring look from Hagrid, had told him that this was Magnolia Crescent that he remembered the odd request. He was rather impressed by Harry's ability to remember apparently everything, though. He would surely be a really good student! After hugging the boy (through which Harry had remained strangely limp) and saying goodbye, he had watched the little tyke walking back to his family.

* * *

The last month Harry spend with the Dursley's was... strange.

When he arrived back at Number 4, his Aunt informed him that from now on he would sleep in Dudley's second bedroom. Harry didn't want to, though. He couldn't sleep in a bed because he was constantly nervous about someone coming in and tying him up again. He knew it wasn't likely that his Aunt or Uncle would tie him up – after all, every time this had happened he had been in hospital – but he couldn't help being worried. However, during the night, when he had tried to creep back to his cupboard, he had discovered that it was locked. He had decided to sleep in the corner between the almost-broken wardrobe and the wall in Dudley's second bedroom then. It wasn't his cupboard, but it was much better than the bed!  
The next day his Aunt had told him that all the things he had bought for school had to stay in the cupboard, and that he would have to put up with the room instead. Harry had been more worried that, apparently, the trip to London with the gigantic man and that weird street and all the strange people and things had been real, than about the room, though he didn't try to argue with his Aunt (which he wouldn't have done anyway, he supposed, after having seen the sour look on her face).

After a few day of worrying, he had asked Aunt Petunia whether he really needed to go to that school. It wasn't so much that he didn't want to go to school, but more that he wanted to make sure he had not imagined the whole incident with the giant. He had considered his question carefully, he was well aware that he was likely to end up in hospital again if his Aunt thought he suffered from delusions, but finally he couldn't bear the uncertainty any more. All other attempts to find out whether or not it was real – trying to sneak into the cupboard, overhearing his Aunt and Uncle talking when they thought they were alone – had proved futile.

His Aunt had just snapped at him that of course he would go and whether he thought she would put up with him longer than necessary. Well. Apparently he would go... somewhere. But he didn't dare to ask more questions. Asking questions wasn't something his relatives approved of anyway, and asking questions about weird things? No, this wouldn't do any good, Harry thought.

The thing that bothered him the most, though, was the owl.

Aunt Petunia had said that it had to stay in the room he slept in, even so Harry was rather afraid of it. At first, he hadn't been sure whether the owl even was real. All he knew was that somehow he had had this big, white bird when he had arrived back at Privet Drive, in the evening of the day he had spend with this Hagrid. However, he had had a big suitcase, too, and the suitcase had been gone in the morning. His Aunt said it was in the cupboard, but he couldn't really know whether this was true, since it was locked and Aunt Petunia refused to open it. So she might be wrong about it, perhaps she had hallucinations, too? Or she might be lying.

But the owl had stayed. It was in a cage, so Harry supposed it wouldn't hurt him (at least not without being threatened), but he was wary to sleep in the same room as this bird did. It kept looking at him strangely (well, Harry thought it was strange, but he didn't know very much about owls, so it might even be normal for owls looking the way this did), and tended to hoot and rustle with its feathers every time Harry entered the room.

Aunt Petunia had told him to put a bowl of water in the cage and to feed it with things that looked like big biscuits, and even so he was rather reluctant, he did as he was told. He couldn't let the bird go hungry, could he? It might try to break out of the cage if it didn't get food and water, and Harry was afraid that it might harm (or kill) him if he didn't treat it well. After all, this was what people did if you didn't behave and did as you were told, so why should a bird be any different?

After a few days, though, he had started to get accustomed to the other creature that inhabited Dudley's second bedroom. He kept looking at it, and the owl looked back. Sometimes, he spoke to it, too (though it didn't answer him, for what the boy was rather grateful). He thought it was somehow nice to speak to someone who didn't ask difficult questions, who (probably) wouldn't lock you up if you said something wrong. The owl just kept staring at him and hooted sometimes.

Perhaps it wouldn't hurt him, even if he let it out of the cage?

One evening, six days after his trip to London, Harry ventured out of his usual corner towards the cage with owl. When it didn't become angry, Harry seated himself on the floor next to the cage.

"Hooooooooot"

"Hello"

"My name is Harry. What's yours?"

"Hoooooooot"

Hm. Perhaps it couldn't speak? Think about it, animals couldn't speak. He knew this for sure, he had read many books about animals. So if this _was _a normal animal, it would not be able to speak. But this meant... this meant he didn't imagine this bird, did it? Or... well, it might be a very mean creature – hallucination - which just pretended being a real bird, and would attack as soon as he felt save... how could he possibly know?

Bravely, Harry reached forward and put the tip of his index finger between the bars. The owl bend towards it. Harry breathed in sharply when the beak came nearer and nearer. Just when he was about to withdraw his finger, the owl gave it a very gentle bite.

Startled, Harry pulled back his hand. Only to stretch it out again when he became aware that the animal hadn't actually hurt him. The next time the bird seemed to be even more careful and just nibbled on the boy's outstretched finger.

And Harry let it.

It even felt funny, he noticed. Somehow, as if the owl wanted to say "I'm your friend. I like you and I won't hurt you."

Could owls be friends?

* * *

When Harry had to visit Dr Green again, Petunia accompanied him. The boy thought this strange, since his Aunt normally stayed at home these days, only coming with him if Dr Green had asked her to do so. Perhaps it had something to do with all the weird things that had happened during the last week?

"Ah, hello Harry, and hello Mrs Dursley, what a pleasure to meet you!" The doctor didn't seem surprise to see Aunt Petunia. So perhaps she had phoned him? Oh oh, he just hoped he wasn't in trouble... perhaps his Aunt had heart him talking to the owl?

"Dr Green... yes, well...ehm..."

"You told me you had made a decision regarding Harry you wanted to discuss with me?"

"Eh, yes... we – my husband and I – have decided to send him – Harry – to a... a boarding school that is specialized in dealing with children like Harry. Yes. We thought it would be good for the boy, being amongst his own ki – eh, amongst children who suffer under similar problems like he does."

"Ah, well, yes... as I have told you many times before, quite understandable, quite understandable... so, Harry, what do you think about it?"

The boy stayed silent and kept looking at his aunt.

"Harry? What do you think about going somewhere where you'll meet many other kids who are similar to you?"

"It's ok..." Harry answered, unsure about what was the right thing to say.

"Eh, yes, we have discussed this with the boy, and he has agreed. He has already met one of the people working there, and he rather liked him. Yes, he has met Mr... ehm, Mr Hagid last week, they spoke about everything and Mr Hagid made sure it would be the right facility for Harry. When he left, he mentioned that he thought it could improve his conditions dramatically if he stayed with them... yes, and I've heard great things about this, ehm, home... or boarding school, since the children receive some kind of special... training while staying there..."

"Ah, very good, yes, very good... I have started to worry that Harry would never be able to attend school again, but if this facility offers a program for children with mental illnesses, he would actually have a change to succeed, I think... Eh, do you have any files or documents regarding this institution? Only to make sure it is really the right thing for the boy? I mean," Dr Green interrupted himself, "I trust you to make the right decisions regarding Harry! After all, it has been you who have lived with the boy for so many years now! I only would like to know where one of my oldest patient is going to stay for the next few years."

"Yes of course, they have send me some records- just a moment...", Petunia reached for her handbag, rummaged though it and finally produced some sheets of thick, yellowish paper. "Here you are." And slightly nervous, she handed them over to the doctor.

When Petunia Dursley had pulled the papers from her bag, Dr Green had looked quizzically at the documents – what WAS this? - , but as soon as he had taken them his gaze first became rigid, before, after two or three seconds, his eyes slid out of focus completely, only to return to their normal state (well, almost normal – they might be a bit less focused) a few moments later.

He read avidly. Or at least he appeared to do so, though Petunia knew that he couldn't actually read anything since the sheets were blank. When the so-called records had arrived a few days prior (through the normal post, thankfully), she had at first thought that these freaks were trying to make fun of her. Blank sheets of parchment, honestly! But then she had noticed the note which said that the sheets were charmed and that everyone who required an explanation about the witch or wizards disappearance would be able to read exactly what they needed to know as soon as they touched the parchment. Petunia had though this rather practical, apparently these freaks were used to dealing with normal people (it seemed to be something every normal family got sent, since their wasn't a personal salutation or anything else regarding Harry's special situation). She had, however, been worried whether or not this would actually work with Dr Green, since he wasn't a teacher or an official from the local education authority.

Her worries had been completely unnecessary. Dr Green seemed to be satisfied with whatever the papers said and asked whether he could copy them for Harry's files. Petunia wasn't sure if copied pages would actually show anything – or what it would be, since how could it be possible for a photocopier to copy some kind of "charm", whatever this was? -, but she supposed that it must be all right (and she couldn't really deny Dr Green his request since it would be suspicious), after all, the freaks knew that the authorities would do that, didn't they?  
It seemed to have worked, though, because when Dr Green returned he just handed the sheets of parchment back to Petunia without mentioning anything odd.

"So, Harry, are you looking forward to going to this institution? I'm sure it will be great fun, you'll meet lots of other children to play and talk and have fun with!"

"Yeah... but I'm away then. I don't know... what if I don't like it there?"

"Ah, it's completely normal to be a bit nervous about moving to a place that you don't know, but you will get accustomed to everything in no time! And there will be lots of adults to help you, too, and if you get homesick, you can just phone your Aunt! And if you have any questions or feel uncomfortable with anything, you can just tell them, either the kids or the adult. It will be similar to the ward, I think, only without all the doctors and with less medicine. That's good, isn't it?" Dr Green winked at the boy, being well aware of the fact that Harry didn't like taking his medicine. He could understand the boy, it wasn't fun being under the influence of strong antipsychotics and sedatives all the time, but well, it simply was necessary...

"But what if I don't like the people? What if they are mean and hurt me?"

"They won't do this, Harry! Perhaps you won't like anybody, but there WILL be many people you like, too. Just think about the ward, you don't like all the nurses and doctors the same, but there are still many of whom you are rather fond of, aren't there?"

"Hm, yes... but I won't see you again..." This had bothered Harry the most. While he was quite happy that – apparently – he would never have to stay on the ward in this hospital again, which meant he wouldn't have to worry about being tied up and locked in and tube-feeded and watched while using the toilet any more, he was afraid of loosing Dr Green. It wasn't that he liked everything the doctor did, quite the contrary, but at least he knew what to expect.  
But strangers? He would be completely helpless, he didn't know what they expected him to do, how to behave... he didn't know the rules of this new place, and that thought terrified him.

"Harry, of course we will see each other again, you can visit me when you are staying with your family, and you can phone me every time you like, and you can write me letters! I'm looking forward to getting lots of letters from Scotland, you know!"

* * *

In mid-August (Vernon was at work and Dudley stayed with some friends as usual), while Harry was talking to his owl again, Aunt Petunia brought some books into Dudley's second bedroom. (Harry refused to call it his room, the cupboard was his room!). Harry thought this strange, since there were already many books lying in the shelves on the walls, but then his Aunt explained to him that he should read the new books "since the other freaks will expect you to know all this".

"You will not talk about anything you read, though, especially not in front of Dudley! And don't you dare to take any of the books with you when you leave this room! I won't have freakish books lying around in my house!"

Harry, grateful that his Aunt hadn't complained about him talking to the owl, just nodded.

After (apparently) careful consideration, Petunia put the books into the corner of the room Harry normally occupied. The boy had built himself some kind of nest there out of the blankets and pillow that had been on the bed. And while Petunia didn't like it that her nephew was doing even more unnormal things (why couldn't he just sleep in the (almost) perfectly good bed like any normal person?!), she had decided that it wouldn't be worth the inevitable argument that would take place if she forbade him to sleep in the corner. He would be gone in less than three weeks anyway, it didn't matter.

"And don't mention it to Vernon!" Petunia hissed, before turning around and leaving the room.

Harry was perplexed. Normally, his Aunt didn't like it if he read, since he would be distracted from doing his chores and tended to ask stupid questions every time he didn't understand something written in the books. It had been particularly bad when he had tried to read a book called "The Hobbit". After being told not to ask questions about freaky things any more (and two spankings provided by Uncle Vernon), he had stopped reading this book.  
It was rather strange, though. His Aunt and Uncle had called that book "freaky", and they called Harry a freak. But now they were also calling all this weird stuff that had happened during the last few weeks "freaky". Perhaps those things – the book, Harry, the stuff that had happened - were somehow related?  
It couldn't hurt to look at the books, could it? Perhaps they were interesting and he could really use something to keep himself occupied. Since the incident with the letter a few weeks prior, he had considerably less chores to do and had gotten a bit bored.

A few minutes later Harry was stunned. These books... this weren't normal books. They were completely... freakish. Yes. His Aunt was right. Nevertheless, he couldn't help himself to be intrigued.

Magic.

The giant man had talked about magic, too.

But the giant man had only been a hallucination, hadn't he? But then there was the owl (which he rather liked now)... the owl was real. And since the giant had given him the owl, he must have been real, too, mustn't he? This was all so confusing. It made his head hurt and he just wanted to understand. Understand all the weird things that kept happening. Why couldn't everything be just normal? He would rather do more chores than to figure out what all of this was about.

Magic.

The books seemed to be real, though. Perhaps he was misunderstanding something? Or perhaps he had another kind of hallucination, reading words that weren't actually written on the books? But he had never had this kind of hallucination before... only hearing the voice of the demon in his head, and sometimes seeing strange people... Well, he could just read a bit in this books to see whether the was an explanation for everything, couldn't he? And besides, his Aunt had ordered him to read them, so he didn't really have a choice anyway...

He grabbed one of the books. "The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1)" it read on the cover. He opened it at random and started to read.  
It was fascinating.  
Apparently, the author thought that there existed words that had the power to made certain things happen. According to Miranda Goshawk (of whom Harry had never heard before) you had to move your wand (what was a wand?) in a certain pattern, speaking funny-sounding words and then everything you wanted to happen actually happened. Or so it sounded to Harry.  
He only stopped reading when Aunt Petunia called him to make supper. Dazed, he left Dudley's second bedroom and almost burned the pork chops his aunt wanted him to made for Vernon and Dudley.

He didn't sleep. Or at least, he didn't sleep until three o'clock in the morning, when Uncle Vernon, who had apparently woken up due to to much beer the previous evening, pounded into the room and yelled what he was thinking, wasting energy and whether he thought he had nothing better to do with his hard-earned money than to pay the electricity company. He took the light bulb, and Harry had no other choice than to sleep.  
But he continued reading the next morning, that was after making breakfast for the family and eating some toast and butter himself. His Aunt insisted that he needed to gain weight, which Harry thought funny since Aunt Petunia had never before cared about his eating habits, just made sure that he didn't get anything of Dudley's favourite meals and snacks and that he didn't go days without eating anything. Well, it didn't matter, as long as he could go back to his books as fast as possible.

When he had finished "The Standard Book of Spells" he started "A History of Magic". He got slightly confused – all the names and dates and wars and laws – and in the end decided only to skim-read the parts that didn't seem to be very interesting.

"Hedwig", he exclaimed, the third day after his Aunt had brought all the books. He had been silent for hours, and the owl (who had been asleep) hooted indignantly at being woken up.

"I want to name you Hedwig. Is this all right?" Harry asked, worried that the owl might not like the name he had found in "A History of Magic" and instantly loved.

The owl regarded him doubtfully.

"Hedwig? All right?" Anxiously, the boy waited for some sign of approval or objection.

The owl hooted and looked straight into Harry's eyes.

"Hedwig", he beamed.

* * *

**next chapter: September 1st !  
**


	10. Hogwarts Express

_I don't own Harry Potter_

_finally, we are going to Hogwarts, althought I'm afraid that since Harry has some issues when it come to walking against walls, it might be somehow more complicated (and therefore delay the sorting a bit) than in the books;)  
Moi, thanks for pointing out the mistake I made, I've already fixed it!  
And as always, thanks to everyone who reads this story, it's so amazing that people from all over the world actually read what I'm writing!_

* * *

**Chapter 10 - Hogwarts Express**

.

Harry awoke early on September 1st. Frankly speaking, he hadn't slept very much at all. Today was the day he would leave the Dursley's in order to go to that new place. Hogwarts. He was nervous.

The previous day, his Aunt had insisted on him putting all of the books, his clothes, "and anything you want to take to this stupid school" into the big suitcase that had been locked in Harry's cupboard since he had gotten it on July 31st. He didn't really possess many things, but he had carefully packed his toy-soldiers and a few of his non-freaky books which he had gotten sometimes when his Aunt had decided to make room in Dudley's second bedroom for new toys. Most importantly, though, his teddy and an old blanket (both of which had been his as long as he could remember, though the blanket looked even older than the bear) had been securely stored in the side pocket of the trunk.  
Only Hedwig- the owl – was still in Dudley's second bedroom with him. He supposed he would take her with him, though, the Dursley's didn't seem to like her very much and he would be very sad if he had to leave his friend behind.

Aunt Petunia had bought him new clothes, too. Well, they were from the charity shop, so they weren't completely new, but they were much nicer than the hand-me-downs from Dudley he normally got. They even fitted him! The lady's working in the charity shop knew that the Dursley's had to take care for an orphan and didn't receive allowance for him, so Aunt Petunia had been able to buy him clothes every time she wanted during the last few years. Still, when he stayed inside the house he had to wear Dudley's old ones, he was only allowed to wear the better ones when he had to visit Dr Green or had to stay in hospital. Harry thought this was perfectly understandable, since he really didn't need to look nice when no one (except his Aunt, Uncle and cousin) saw him anyway. His Aunt had told him that even clothes from the charity shop cost money, so it was only fair that he had to save the good clothes for special occasions, Harry thought.

Somehow, going to this new place seemed to be a really important occasion though, because apart from clothes Harry had gotten a new toothbrush, toothpaste, a brush and soap all for himself!

He still wasn't really sure what this Hogwarts was, though. On the one hand, his relatives had said that it was a place for freaks. Therefore, he thought, it had to be a place for people like him, who were mad. Being mad meant being a freak, didn't it? But on the other hand, the giant had said that it was a place for young witches and wizard, a school to learn magic. Harry hadn't believed him, of course, but after he had read all of his new books (well, except "One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi") he had to admit that all this magic-stuff might – maybe - be real.  
But even if magic actually existed, he wasn't so sure whether he was a wizard. After all, he had never done this "accidentally magic" one of the book's (Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling) talked about. Except for the demon in his head, perhaps... but this was psychotic, nothing magical, wasn't it? Additionally, it was nothing magically about the demon. It wasn't as if he had made strange stuff happen.

But perhaps all of these things – the magic, his mental illness, the demon – were somehow related? Of course, the books didn't mention anything about demons that tried to hurt or kill you but then, it didn't seem to be a subject many people liked to talk about. His Aunt had actually forbidden him to ever mention it when another person (except Dr Green and the staff of the closed ward) was present.  
Well, he supposed he would have to wait. He would find out what this Hogwarts-place were soon enough. And if he didn't like it he could come back. Dr Green had promised him. His Aunt had said he would have to stay, but Dr Green was a doctor and therefore he surely knew better than his Aunt, especially about freaky things, didn't he?

His last visit to Dr Green two day's ago had been weird, though. The previous week, his Aunt had just told him not to tell the Doctor anything about the books and what he had read. This week, however, his Aunt had insisted on accompanying him, only because he had accidentally told the Doctor about Trolls (that were mentioned in one of the books) the week before. He assumed Dr Green must have phoned his Aunt, since he hadn't told her anything about his mistake.  
Dr Green had appeared to be worried and had talked to Aunt Petunia rather seriously, but at least Harry didn't have to take any more medicine. He hadn't mentioned the Trolls again.

"Are you up?" His aunt was knocking on the door. Oh. It must have been later than he had realized.

"Yes Aunt Petunia!"

"Good. I expect you to be in the kitchen making breakfast in five minutes time."

"All right." Harry hurriedly got up, dressed in a new pair of trousers and a T-Shirt his Aunt had given him the previous evening, went to the bathroom, and, after his ablutions had been taken care of, went down to the kitchen.

Making breakfast was something Harry had done every morning since he had been six, well, except when he had been in hospital or had to stay in his cupboard for one reason or another, so it didn't take him long to prepare eggs, ham, toast and everything else his Uncle and Dudley liked to eat. What surprised him, though, was that his Aunt handed _him_ a plate with some eggs and ham, too, when he was just about to wash up the dishes. Wow. He hadn't gotten ham and eggs for ages! Normally, he only got toast!

"Eat up and leave the dishes. We have to go soon, it will take a while to drive all the way to London."

Leave the dishes?! That was almost unheard of... well, perhaps his Aunt was nice because he would go to Hogwarts today? Perhaps she knew something he didn't... perhaps children at Hogwarts had to do more chores than the Dursley's had made him do and only got little to eat and his Aunt wanted to make sure that he ate plenty now in order to last longer with little food? He couldn't really come up with any other explanation...

"Ok boy, now, here is your medicine. You are to give it to the nurse – I'm sure they'll have a nurse there, but if not, just give it to a teacher – and take it regularly, all right? Dr Green has written a letter and explained what you are to take, what injections you are to receive and all your other stuff. I'm not sure whether they have all the medication in Hog- in the school, but it isn't my business, I have told this freaky giant man that you are ill. But you know what happens if you didn't take the medicine, so make sure they find a way to get it. I won't allow you to stay here during summer breaks without being drugged, do you understand, boy?!"

"Yes Aunt Petunia. I gave the medicine to the nurse or a teacher and take it regularly and I'm not to come back without taking medicine."

"Exactly. Now, go to the car and be quiet!"

Harry did as he was told. He was nervous. Oh, he was really, REALLY nervous. He just hoped he wouldn't be sick. He didn't want to arrive at Hogwarts having a sore behind. Perhaps he shouldn't have eaten quite so fast, but it had been delicious and he hadn't been sure whether Dudley would get the remains of his food if he didn't eat quickly enough.  
They reached Kings Cross at 10.30 am. Harry had never before been in the inner city of London and he was amazed (and a little bit frightened) at all the people.

"So, boy," Uncle Vernon had turned around and looked at Harry menacingly. "You WILL behave yourself or you will be very, very sorry. I don't care whether you are hurt or not, but if one of those freaks contacts us because... because you have acted like a lunatic and banged your head against the walls of this freaky school or anything else, than I'll make sure that you will know the real meaning of pain. Have I made myself clear, boy? No more of these stunts like last week!"

"Yes Uncle Vernon. I'm sorry. I make sure to remember it." Harry answered, timidly. He knew what his Uncle was referring to. Just a week ago, the demon had hurt him again. It wasn't this bad, and fortunately Aunt Petunia had said that Dr Green didn't need to know since it was possible that he wouldn't let Harry go to Hogwarts. Harry had been glad, although it was strange that his Aunt didn't want the Doctor to know. Normally, she liked complaining about how difficult Harry was.

"Ok. Then come!" His Uncle was kind enough to unload his trunk from the boot and even got him a trolley. "Ok, boy, now where leaves your train?"

"Uh..." Harry thought about it. The giant hadn't said anything about the actual journey, he had only talked about Hogwarts. But the letter... the letter had said that the train would leave at Kings Cross. But which platform?

"Just look at that damned letter if you didn't know!" His Aunt snapped, "it's in the side pocket, as well as your ticket!"

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. His relatives hated it if he was careless. Sure enough, his Uncle started to mutter about freaks who were too stupid to even remember how to go to a freak-school and whether they began with lessons about how to breath and use the toilet... well, he was used to his Uncle and just rummaged through the trunk until he had found the letter. "Ehm... uh, the letter doesn't say anything about the platform... but wait, the ticket... yes, Kings Cross, Platform nine and three-quarters!" Harry read.

"Nine and what?!" His Uncle bellowed.

"Ehm, nine and three-quarters..."

"Stop talking nonsense, boy, there isn't such a platform!"

"Uh, I don't know..."

"Well, just go to the platform 9 and 10 and wait until one of the other freaks shows up. We don't have all day, Dudley has an appointment, you know... hurry up, boy, I'm sure there will be plenty of freaks who go to the same platform. And if not, well, we have done everything we could... so just go!" And with that, the Dursley's re-entered their car and drove away.

###

Harry was terrified. He was in the middle of the biggest town ever, amongst thousands of people and had no clue what to do. He started walking. 'Just pretend everything is all right', he told himself, mentally. Perhaps then everything _would_ be all right?

Pushing the trolley, he searched for platforms 9 and 10. He found them rather quickly, but there wasn't any sign of Platform nine and three-quarters. Asking a guard proved futile and finally he decided it would be the best just to wait whether anything would happen. Perhaps the platform only appeared when the train was due to leave? Or should he do some kind of magic? But he didn't know any magic... 'Just wait', he tried to calm himself, 'something will happen...'

It was now 10.40 am. He still had plenty of time left, hadn't he? There was no need to worry... if he panicked he would only draw attention to himself (more than he already did, with Hedwig and all), and this wouldn't be good. 10. 45 am. Still a quarter of an hour left. He had seen what appeared to be a family who had looked like they could be freaks, too, but he hadn't dared to ask them how to go to the platform. What if they weren't freaks after all and would call the police or an ambulance because they thought Harry was mad? Well, he _was_ mad... but he didn't want to be in more trouble than he was sure he was already in anyway. What was going on? Was he really standing on a train-station in London, trying to go to a strange platform? Or was this only in his head? Perhaps he was in his cupboard, or on the ward... he wasn't sure whether it would be worse if he was indeed on the ward or if all of this – the train-station, the people, the funny platform – was real. It was just too much. He just wanted it all to stop...

"...now, boys, hurry up. The train will leave in ten minutes and we still have to enter platform nine and three-quarters. And no muggle must see us!"

Harry's breath quickened. This, this people – another family as it seemed, since all had the same red hair – they were going to the same platform he wanted to go! He had to look very carefully where they went, then he could just follow them!  
It didn't seem to work, though, because one after another the boys just vanished. Desperately, as only the woman, another boy and a girl were left and they seemed to be about to vanish, too, he approached them, despite being wary of speaking to unknown people.

The woman looked at him strangely when he asked her how to go to the platform, but told him nevertheless. Going through a solid wall... oh oh, he wasn't sure whether he should do it. Perhaps the woman was another demon? Sure, he had never been able to see the demon in his head, but the things the woman told him sounded very similar to the things the demon made normally do him... but he couldn't do this in front of crowds of people! He would be in hospital right away and probably not even on the ward where Dr Green worked, since he was far away from Surrey... no no no this couldn't be right!

The woman must have noticed his horror-stricken face since she talked to him very gently. However, there was a terrible noise in Harry's ears so he hardly understood her. 'Oh no, please, I mustn't get crazy now, please no!' He thought, desperately. The girl and the boy that stood beside the woman looked at him curiously.

"I have _told_ Dumbledore he must set someone up to help all the muggle-borns to enter the platform." The woman grumbled, unnoticed by Harry. "Come on, little one, it doesn't hurt and it isn't dangerous in the least! Where are your parents?" The small boy – was he really old enough to attend Hogwarts? He looked smaller than Ginny! - didn't answer. She looked around the crowds of people, but no one seemed to be interested in the boy... perhaps his parents had just dropped him off and had already left? But who would be so cruel to his own child, hell, to any child? She _must_ speak to Dumbledore at any rate... this wasn't good. A muggle family not supporting their son only because he was a wizard? How cruel!

But now wasn't the time to dawdle. The train would leave in less than 10 minutes.

"Now, Ron, Ginny, you go first, I will come with... uh, what's your name? - well, I will come with him right after you, ok? Off you go!" And both of her children did as they were told, despite being curious about the boy that acted so strangely. Perhaps muggles were even funnier than they had imagined? Both of them – Ron and Ginny – had never really met a muggle or even a muggle-born (well, at least not a muggle-born who hadn't already finished Hogwarts). Their parents had told them that muggles weren't really different from wizards except that they couldn't do magic (which had made Ron doubt how muggles could even survive, though), but this boy was really, REALLY strange!

Harry watched, horrified, as the boy and the girl started to ran. They headed directly towards a solid wall and were going faster and faster and surely they were going to hit the wall there was no way they could stop now and... NO! Harry covered his face with his hands.

Molly Weasley looked at the small boy beside her worriedly. This child seemed to be even more afraid than the average eleven-year-old muggle-born. She had met quite a few one's during the last ten years... having seven children made sure of that.

"Come on, little one. It won't hurt a bit! What's your name? Are you excited about going to Hogwarts?" She tried to distract the boy while she was pulling him forward.

Harry felt the woman, who had taken his arm at one point, pulling him forward. His first instinct was to obey and go with her. Usually, obedience was the better option, since adults got there way no matter whether you wanted or not. Oh, he had fought quite a lot, with Dr Green and Aunt Petunia and the teachers and in hospital, but it had been to no avail, and he had stopped doing it years ago. It only resulted in getting punished or tied to the bed or getting more medicine... no, refusing to do what an adult wanted you to do was useless.

But now, this woman was trying to force him to run straight into a wall, to do the very same thing his Aunt and Dr Green had hated him doing, had forbidden him to do. It couldn't be right, could it? Perhaps it was some kind of test? Perhaps they wanted to see whether he was able to resist another demon? He had to fight... he couldn't end up in hospital again, he had to go to this new place, to Hogwarts!  
Harry tried to wrench himself free from the grip of the woman. He tore his arm away, he tried to turn around and run, but she – it? - wouldn't let him go!

"No please, please stop it.. no!" He pleaded, as now they had almost reached the wall and the woman gave no sign of slowing down.

Mrs Weasley wasn't a mother of seven children for nothing. She was quite accustomed to one (or two) of the little one's trying to get away from her, and this boy wasn't a challenge, not after the twins! She felt sorry for him, and she really didn't want to frighten him further, but at the same time she thought it would be the best to bring the boy away from the prying eye's of all that muggles. Sure, she had cast a mild notice-me-not charm, but she wasn't sure it would last if the boy actually screamed or ran away, and she didn't dare to do more magic in the midst of Kings Cross.

"I'm really, really sorry, little one, but..." Not really knowing what to say, she just speeded up.

"NO NO NO!"Harry screamed, beyond caring now. This mustn't happened, he had to get away from this mad woman – demon! But she was holding him tightly.

Less than two seconds later, they were standing on platform nine and three-quarters.

"See? No harm done! Now, come on, we just have to find -" Molly broke off when the boy wrenched his arm free with a might she hadn't believed him capable of, started to scream (and although Molly didn't know what a "demon" was, she was quite sure it was some sort of insult, since "bloody" and "fucking" were well-known swear-words in the wizarding world, too) and ran away as fast as the trolley, loaded with his trunk and owl, would allow him to do.

"What are you thinking, boy?! Hey, come back... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..." But it was no use, the boy couldn't possibly hear her with all the noise the Hogwarts Express (and various pets and their owner's and the owner's families) made. Feeling annoyed, shocked but also rather guilty, though there wasn't really anything else she could have done, she began to search for her own children.

* * *

Harry ran. He just wanted to go away from that woman – demon – that tried to hurt him. He had to fight and run and fight and run and perhaps he would be able to get away... the odds weren't good, he could tell from experience, but he had to try! As soon as he had noticed the grip of the woman loosen, he had torn himself free and tried to get away as fast as possible. He didn't really look where he was running. Vaguely, he was aware that several people had to leap backwards in order to avoid being hit by his trolley, but he didn't care, he just had to go away from that woman!

It wasn't until he almost hit another stone wall that he stopped and looked up, panting. There it was. A sign. A sign saying "platform nine and three quarters". Somehow, miraculously, he had made it! He had found the right platform!

Looking around, he saw many people, many of them looking very funny, being dressed in some kind of dressing gowns. He remembered that he had seen many dressing gowns while packing his suitcase, too. He hadn't questioned it, since it was quite normal only to wear night-clothes and a dressing gown when staying in hospital, but wearing them outside? At a train-station? This was really, really strange!  
Deciding that it wasn't important and quite aware of the fact that worrying about things he couldn't change or explain had never done him any good, he turned his attention to the train. It looked quite different to the ones h had seen at the other platforms. Thinking of it, he couldn't see the other platforms any more! They seemed to be gone. Oh no, this... no! He was becoming crazy, mad, no, he didn't want this, NO NO NO!

Just before he could work himself into a fully-fledged panic attack, a guard – well, it seemed to be a guard, though he was dressed differently from the one he had asked for the platform earlier – approached him and, after having asked and not received any response, loaded his trunk into the train. That was when Harry snapped out again – someone was taking his suitcase! -, but his initial alarm that the man was about to steal his possessions vanished when the guard grinned at him, held out his hand and helped Harry to enter the train as well .

In his panic, Harry had run almost to the end of the train, so it was easy to find an empty compartment. He didn't manage to lift his trunk onto the luggage rack, so he settled for pushing it under the seats. He half-hoped that nobody would come into the compartment, but on the other hand... he would have to face all the new people anyway, when they reached Hogwarts at the latest. Perhaps it would be easier to get to know someone before being confronted with all of them?

Harry only hoped these people, while being freaks, too (at least according to Aunt Petunia), weren't that kind of people that used to cut their arms open on a regular basis. After the first girl that he had seen briefly during his first stay on the closed ward, he had met other ones, too. It had scared him. All this blood! He had never understood why the nurses told him not to be hysterical about it and that the things he did to himself were far worse. But he had never done something like this! He had never hurt himself! He couldn't help that this stupid demon was in his head.. he didn't like it!  
His thoughts were interrupted when the door slid open.

"Ehm, can I sit here? Everywhere else is full..." A boy asked.

"Yes of course." Harry answered. It wasn't as if he could refuse, was it?

The boy – much taller than Harry, red-haired, his face full of freckles, wearing clothes that seemed to be in an only slightly better condition than Harry's were – sat down opposite him. "Uhm, my name is Ron. Ron Weasley."

"Harry Potter." This statement was met with a gasp, a disbelieving look and complete silence for at least a minute, though Harry didn't notice. He had just realized that the train had already started to move and that Kings Cross – the normal part as well as platform nine and three-quarters – were gone. He really was going away from the Dursley's. He really was going to a magical – freakish? - place.

"...uhm, Harry?"

Harry couldn't believe it. He felt dizzy and nervous and just ill. He wanted it to be true – the magic and all the stuff one could make with only waving a wand and saying a few funny words – but at the same time he was afraid that it _would_ indeed be true.

"You... Harry? Are you really Harry Potter?

"Uh, what?" The other boy was talking. Talking to _him_, apparently!

"I just said, are you really _Harry Potter_?"

"Uh, yes..."

"Wicked!" The red-head exclaimed, staring at Harry in awe. "And you really have the... the _scar_?"

Harry froze. Why did the boy knew about his scars? He made sure to cover them all the time, since his relatives hated seeing them. Of course, most of the bigger ones were covered by his hair anyway, but he had a few on his legs and shoulders and ankles, too. He had never been allowed to wear shorts because of them. Well, he didn't have shorts anyway, but it would have been nice just to know that he _could _wear them. But now this strange boy seemed to know about his scars even so he wore jeans and a jumper! Perhaps he could see through closes? Perhaps the freakishness showed itself in different ways and some people just knew what you were hiding? Oh no, this wasn't good, no, this wasn't good... he couldn't let everybody know about the demon, they would lock him up again if they found out that it was there, and even seemed to become stronger again. Harry didn't know why, but for a few weeks now, the voice became more noticeable again. Just like it had been before the dosage of his medicine had been drastically increased a year and a half ago.

"Yes..." It wasn't any use to deny it, wasn't it? Not if the boy could see anything he wanted to, not if he could read his mind...

"Wow! And do you remember anything? Do you remember how you-know-who looked like? Do you remember how..." Harry zoned out. 'Please be quiet, please be quiet', he thought, not really knowing whether he meant the boy or the demon.

"Eh, you ok?" Ron Weasley asked Harry, whose gaze had become glassy and who had started to rock backwards and forwards. He didn't seem to hear him, though, he just continued rocking and began mumbling something Ron couldn't make out.  
This was rather strange. He had always imagined the boy who lived to be self-confident and nice and happy and funny and surrounded by people who looked at him with admiration, being in the centre of everything, getting lots of attention and... well, everything Ron wanted to be himself. But this boy... he was strange. Small and skinny, and he twitched constantly for no apparent reason. Even worse, sometimes he rolled his eyes so that only the white could be seen for a few moments! This was creepy!

And then, when he didn't twitch and didn't roll his eyes, he looked somewhat bored and showed no emotion at all! His face was like a mask, and sometimes Ron wasn't sure whether he was still alive. Well, of course he was alive, he was breathing and all, but his faces was devoid of every feeling, every movement... kind of like an inferius (or what Ron believed an inferius would look like, he had never seen a real one, fortunately). Ron shuddered.

Perhaps the boy who lived wasn't really alive after all? Perhaps it was just his body which was alive, but on the inside, he was dead? Or only a part of him was still alive, the other part dead? Or he had become evil due to the close proximity to you-know-who? Perhaps it would be better to go to another compartment? He had been thrilled when he discovered that he was sitting in the same compartment like _Harry Potter, _but now he thought that perhaps it wasn't so fantastic...

"Do you have to take medicine, too?" Harry asked the other boy. He was a freak – or a wizard? Was there a difference? - too, after all, so surely he must also take all kind of stupid pills?

"What?!" Ron asked, completely bewildered. What was Harry Potter talking about?

"Um, do you take medicine? You know, because of... well, all this weird stuff?"

"What's medicine?" Ron demanded.

"Uh, medicine... you don't know?" Harry didn't know what to think. Everyone knew what medicine was! "You know, pills and stuff you have to take when you are ill in order to get healthy again."

"Ah, you mean healing potions? Yes, I had to take them lots of times! Everyone does, I think... I had a really bad flu once, and had to take about ten different potions! Or the time when I twisted my ankle, my mother gave me painkiller potions! Medicine, it's a really funny word, though..." Although he thought it had been a rather strange question, Ron was relieved. Apparently, Harry Potter wasn't half-dead or evil after all. Strange, yes, but not... well, he didn't think he had to go and find another compartment.

Harry felt relieved, too. The boy had to take medicine, too (although he called it a really funny name), so he wouldn't be a complete freak at that Hogwarts! Perhaps he would even be able to make friends? This would be... incredible!

"You look really small, are you really eleven years old?" Ron was _quite_ sure his mother would have told him off for being rude, but he had never been the type of person that could restrain himself, even if it had earned him quite a few smacks already.

"Yes... you too?"

"Yeah, first year, too! Though I have brothers – five of them, can you imagine?! - that are at Hogwarts, too. Well, two of them – Bill and Charlie – have already left, but there are Percy and Fred' n' George – twins, you know, third-years. They are all Gryffindors... hope I'll end up being Gryffindor, too. Don't know what mum and dad will say if I wouldn't... imagine, being a slimy Slytherin!"

Harry thought about it. He had already heard those names, but he couldn't remember where. Perhaps he had read them in one of his book's? Or... YES, the giant – Haggi? Haggit? Hagrid! - had talked about those. Houses, he had said. Gryffindor and Slytherin, yes, they were some sort of wards, well, similar to wards at least... but there had been others, too, hadn't there? Raven... there had been something with a raven. Harry liked birds – they were free – and he was sure Hagrid hat mentioned a house that was named after a raven. "Uh, what are the other wards?"

"Wards? You mean houses, doesn't you? But, surely you know? Everyone knows!"

"Uh, no, well, I have lived with my relatives and they have never talked about it... about nothing, really, they don't like all this weird stuff... magic"

"Weird stuff? You mean you you have lived with _muggles_?" Ron was appalled. The boy-who-lived had lived with muggles? "People who don't have magic", he explained, having seen Harry's confused expression.

"Uh, yes... they don't really know anything about it, I think... you see, my parents are dead, and I didn't really have anybody else..." Harry was afraid the other boy would think less of him for not having a proper family.

"Of course your parents are dead, everybody knows! But nobody knew that you lived with muggles all the time! Well, I don't think it matters anyway, but... you know _nothing_? About Hogwarts, about magic, about the houses? You _must_ know about Gryffindor, your parents were both Gryffindors! And Slytherin, everyone who followed you-know-who was in Slytherin!"

"But there are other wa- houses, too, aren't there?"

"Yes, of course, there are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Gryffindor is the best, though. All good people go to Gryffindor. Well, I think Ravenclaw's are all right, too, but they are all studious and swotty, only ever read... they say that all the losers go to Hufflepuff, I wouldn't want to go there. But better Hufflepuff than Slytherin! Slytherin, that are evil people... don't think _anyone_ who was a Slytherin fought against you-know-who! You have to be careful about them – might try to hex you or worse, you being the boy-who-lived and all– yes, Slytherins are creepy and slimy snakes that start trouble every time! And Gryffindors have to fight against Slytherins in order to prevent them from getting power and causing even more trouble and hurting or even _killing_ all good people! You can't trust a Slytherin not to cause trouble – Professor Snape is their head of house, and he is the worst of them! Always docks point from Gryffindors because they try to save the world from that evil snakes – Fred 'n George have told me everything about him! Yes, if I would end up being a Slytherin, I would go back home right away! No way, you wouldn't survive 10 minutes with those people!"

While Ron continued to rant about evil Slytherins, Harry thought. He remembered Hagrid telling him similar things... Gryffindor was the house for the good people while all bad ones ended up in Slytherin. He didn't think he would be a Ravenclaw, he was too stupid, after all, he hadn't gone to school for almost a year, only read on his own... perhaps he would be a Hufflepuff...? He surely was a looser, the Dursley's had told him often enough. He would like to be a Gryffindor, they seemed to be some kind of heroes, but he couldn't hope being one of them, could he? And if he was put into Slytherin everyone would hate him. Ron and Hagrid and probably everybody else who was nice because it was the house only evil people were put in, and the Slytherins themselves... well, to Harry it sounded as if they were some kind of monsters.

Harry sighed. It would be much easier if there was only one house. Why did they split children up like this? To ensure that the good ones weren't threatened by the evils? To make sure that the dump ones didn't prevent the intelligent ones from learning? "Uh, who decides in which house you are put?"

"Well, it's a secret, isn't it? No first year knows, kind of a surprise I think... though Fred n' George have told me that you have to fight a troll... but don't know whether this is true...they can't just let a troll into the castle, can't they?" Though Ron tried to pretend as if it didn't really matter and fighting a troll wouldn't be a bother at all, his voice was definitely higher than it had been before.

* * *

Around noon, a lady that sold all kind of sweets came to their compartment. Harry had never gotten many sweets, and his eyes grew big as saucers when he saw all the stuff on the trolley. He knew he had money – Hagrid had told him that he didn't need to worry about money when he asked him how he was supposed to pay for all his books and the wand – so he spent the next fifteen minutes choosing a wide variety of funny candies. There was no one around who forbade him to ate as much chocolate and lollies and toffees as he wanted to, and Harry was determined to make use of this new-found freedom.

Later, when he and Ron (who had looked a little bit jealous at all the sweets Harry had bought, so that Harry had offered him some – it turned out that Ron was quite hungry, though, and since he didn't like corned beef, Harry hadn't had the heart to refuse him eating more.) had eaten about half of the sweets, another boy – well, three boys, but two of them didn't speak at all and, if you believed Ron (who was very knowledgeable about everything freakish, Harry thought), were more troll than human – showed up.

After they had thrown a few insults, mostly concerning Ron's lack of money and Harry's lack of knowledge, at each other, the other boys left again. Ron spent the next half an hour enlightening Harry about the Malfoy-family and their ties to Slytherin, you-know-who and other muggle-haters. In the end, Harry was thoroughly convinced that it would not have been good to take the hand the blond boy had offered (he had been about to shake it, he had manners, after all, but thankfully Ron had snatched his hand before Harry could make contact with the evil snake) and was extremely grateful for Ron's presence. He would be completely be lost without the red-headed boy.

Apart from a bushy-haired girl that tried to recruit Ron and Harry for a search party in order to find a missing toad, nothing extraordinary happened during the rest of their journey.

When the train started to slow down both boys looked slightly green. An ominous sign, as Ron pointed out, considering that they had to fight against becoming evil slimy snakes in only a few moments.

* * *

**Next Chapter: The Sorting - finally!**


	11. The Sorting

_I don't own Harry Potter_

_Yes, another chapter although it has only been four days, but I'm curious as what you think about Harry's house.  
An additional note, I had some difficulties writing the next few chapters after this one, I don't know whether they are good or a little bit boring, but I had to include them since all of the information they cover are important for the plot. Personally, I rather like stories that aren't rushed but where the development is shown in more detail, well, I hope you'll like it, too. I have, however, made a few major plot decisions and can promise that there will be quite a few twists and turns and I'm looking forward to writing them!_

_ Astrido and everyone else who worries about Ron, Slytherin and so on, even so Harry is currently on friendly terms with Ron, and Ron is currently indeed very anti-Slytherin, as I said earlier, there will be some twist and this won't become a bashing-story (neither way round). I don't mind these stories if they are well-written, but I plan a different approach. I don't want to say much more about the subject since it could ruin the surprise, but if anyone worries about this or other aspects and would like to know certain things in advance, you are free to send me a private message! (Personally, I can't read about certain things without being depressed for days either, so I think pm-ing the author about such things is better than to stop reading a story you otherwise like altogether)_

* * *

**Chapter 11 – The Sorting**

.

Severus Snape, potion professor at Hogwarts, was in a bad mood. Considering the fact that it was September 1st, this wasn't very surprising. He had never liked the beginning of term, neither as a pupil nor when he had returned to the school as a professor.

However, this year was even worse.

Earlier this day, he and Minerva McGonagall, Transfiguration-teacher and deputy headmistress, had tried one last time to convince Dumbledore that keeping the stone in a school full of children wasn't a very smart idea. Predictably, though, their efforts had been futile. It was almost impossible to make Dumbledore reconsider plans once he had made them. But keeping the _Philosopher's Stone_ in (well, under) Hogwarts... this was pure madness, even for Dumbledore himself.

And then the old fool had even decided to actually _tell_ the pupils that the third-floor corridor was out of bounds... either the headmaster had no knowledge whatsoever about the working of teenage-minds, which would be worrisome, too, considering he was responsible for a whole school full of these brats, or he wanted to lure them to Fluffy purposefully.  
Not that it was really his concern, being head of Slytherin. _His_ house was unlikely to be stupid enough to ran into half-cooked adventures. Minerva's brats, on the other hand... well, he couldn't think of anything that would prevent these miscreants to find out what was going on, even if it meant being eaten by a giant, three-headed dog, once they had learned that something dangerous was kept inside the school.

It wasn't as if Severus didn't understand the reasons for Dumbledore's decision. He was well aware that it was of utmost importance to safeguard the stone, even more so after the latest attempt to rob Gringotts. But using the pupils as some kind of human shield?  
Because this was exactly what the old man was about to do, as far as Severus was concerned. The headmaster might think that no one, not even the Dark Lord himself, would dare to attack a school full of magical children, but he wasn't that trusting. He knew that, while some of the Dark Lord's followers wouldn't risk the life of their heirs, even if it was for the purpose to resurrect their master, the majority of them either didn't care about the children in the least or were prepared to make a few... sacrifices if it meant HE would return.

But this wasn't the only reason Severus was more grumpy than usual on a September 1st. Today wasn't any September 1st, but September 1st _1991. _Which meant that today Harry bloody Potter would start his education at Hogwarts, and therefore would be a constant reminder of his own horrible wrongdoings for the next seven years. Well, at least if he didn't manage to get himself expelled before he had finished school. And while under normal circumstances, this might have been a very likely possibility, considering he was the son of James Potter, it was more than unlikely as long as the current headmaster was in charge.

The stone, a three-headed dog, a DADA-teacher that acted more than suspicious, Potter, and if he wasn't very much mistaken there would be _another_ Weasley starting Hogwarts this year, no, it wasn't really surprising that, when he walked through the corridors towards the Great Hall where the students would arrive any minute now, Severus Snape's expression was already as sour as it normally only became after school was in session for at least two weeks and the first cauldron had been melted.

###

Minerva McGonagall was excited. Not that she would admit it to everyone besides herself, though, after all, she had a reputation to loose. But the thought that the son of two of her all-time favourite Gryffindor's would start Hogwarts this very evening and very likely being placed in her house made it difficult for the normally stern and strict witch to uphold her usual conduct. It even served to dampen the feeling of annoyance towards the twinkling old wizard who just refused to listen to anyone who questioned whether it was... wise to keep a very valuable and very dangerous item in a school. Well, she supposed he had his reasons for such actions... he was, after all, not only headmaster of this very school but also the greatest and wisest wizard currently alive. And he was very fond of all of the students, he wouldn't risk their safety, wouldn't he?

Perhaps she was worrying for nothing... the stone was highly protected, and she and the other teachers knew to keep eyes and ears open to anything unusual. But she couldn't suppress all her doubts completely.  
She had to focus now, though. The students would arrive in just a few minutes and she had to keep the first-years in line. She knew how excited they normally were, seeing the castle for the first time and being giddy with being away from their parents (homesickness wasn't usually a problem until the night), not to mention thrilled (or sometimes even terrified) about the sorting.

It would be a rather... lively group of new pupils this year, too. Another Weasley, though fortunately not twins again (she didn't think she – or any teacher for that matter – would survive another pair of Weasley-twins), the son of Lucius Malfoy (which screamed trouble), another few children with parentage that could be considered...questionable at best, the accident-prone Neville Longbottom, who refused to speak with anyone about his parents and looked like a deer in the spotlight every time someone even came close to the subject (his grandmother, an acquaintance of Minerva, had briefed her about her grandchild), not to mention quite a few muggle-borns. You could never tell how muggle-born witches and wizards reacted to being in a magical castle for the first time, even if they all had visited Diagon Alley at least once. Minerva McGonagall herself had introduced some of them to the wizarding world during the summer, and while most of them seemed to be a mixture between awed, bemused and doubtful, one little witch had apparently decided to learn absolutely everything about the wizarding world during a few short weeks. She had given Minerva quite a headache, and after they had visited Flourish&Blotts for the fifth time she had told her that she really, really had enough books now and that even the self-expanding trunk they had purchased while being in the Alley for the first time wasn't made for carrying a whole library.

And then there was, of course, little Harry Potter. Hagrid had told her everything he had learned on their shopping-trip about him, but Hagrid, well, he was... _Hagrid,_and therefore Minerva was very keen on seeing the boy for herself. She was excited, yes, but also a little bit worried. The muggles had treated him well, hadn't they? He would be just like all the other first-years, a happy, curious, self-confident little boy, wouldn't he? Sure, she hadn't liked the Dursley's all these years ago, but they were his family, after all. And Albus had been right, it wouldn't have been good for the boy-who-lived to grow up being either spoiled rotten and admired for something he couldn't even remember or hated and threatened for the very same thing.

'Well', she thought, just as the first carriages with the upper-year students came to a halt, 'at least it is sure that every house will get at least one first-year.' Because there wasn't any doubt that the muggle-born witch would being sorted into Ravenclaw, Neville to Hufflepuff, young Mr Malfoy to Slytherin and Harry, together with the second-to-last Weasley, to Gryffindor.

###

Dumbledore, already sitting on the staff-table in the Great Hall, twinkling at the incoming students, felt contentedly.

He had done everything in his might to ensure that Voldemort couldn't get his hands on the stone. There simply was no way he could enter the school grounds, not with the wards and the additional protection he and Nicolas had set up after deciding (well, Dumbledore convincing Flamel) where to put the stone. And no one of the Death Eaters would dare to raid the school, not with all the children being there. Sure, they were follower's of Lord Voldemort, but not even they could possibly want to slaughter a whole generation of witches and wizards, couldn't they?

And, of course, he looked forward to seeing young Harry again.  
He wasn't exactly worried about the boy... he had been with his family, after all, and while he knew that Petunia didn't like magic very much, surely she had treated him well enough. He had never expected her to actually love Harry just as she loved her own son... but she had taken him in and cared for him, and this meant that she must at least tolerate the boy.

Albus Dumbledore wasn't really happy with Harry having to live with people like the Dursley's, but it wasn't as if there had been a choice. While he was responsible for the well-being of Harry, the same was true for the well-being of the wizarding world as a whole. Harry simply _must_ survive, there was no other option. And staying with his relatives had been the best prospect of him surviving at least until he was old enough to attend Hogwarts, until now...

That said, Dumbledore was somehow relieved that in just a few minutes he would see the boy for himself and could make sure he was ok. Perhaps he should make Severus give the boy a check-up, only to be sure that there was no ill-effect of the killing curse? The potion master was the most knowledgeable staff member as far as dark arts were concerned. He even surpassed Dumbledore himself, who, after his youthful carelessness, had done everything to avoid the dark arts altogether. Well, nearly altogether. He had done...research, after he had seen the cut on little Harry's forehead. He hadn't been sure what it meant, had hoped that perhaps it might just be an ordinary wound, but, after what he had found out about Tom and his attempts to make himself immortal, this wasn't a very likely option... And even if his worst fears about the possible meaning of the scar weren't confirmed, it couldn't hurt to make sure the boy was all right, couldn't it? After all, there might be certain... measures he would have to take if the scar was more than it appeared to be.

* * *

When Harry entered the Great Hall he was beyond terrified.

Not only was he likely to lose his very first friend in just a few minutes if he didn't manage to fight the troll in a manner that would secure him a place in Gryffindor, but also had the old witch – Professor McGonagall – looked at him with an expression that he could only describe as completely furious when she had come to get the first-years from the chamber they had waited in. And had had their first encounter with real, living (well, perhaps living wasn't the right word... _being_ ) ghosts.

He didn't know what he had done to already enrage the teacher, but it didn't matter, did it? He _had _enraged her, no matter how, and he would have to bear the consequences. He just hoped she wouldn't lock him up right away. Perhaps she would send him back to the Dursley's?

Harry didn't know whether he should be worried about this prospect or not... on the one hand, he had made a friend and didn't want to lose him, and his Aunt wouldn't be delighted to have him back, too. Not to mention his Uncle... no, Harry didn't want to think about his reaction if he came back after only one day. But on the other hand... this place – and the people! - were simply crazy! Far more crazy than everything Harry had seen or experienced on the closed ward! Perhaps it would be better to leave this place as quickly as possible? Surely Dr Green wouldn't want him to stay at a place like this? But then, if all of this was real – and Harry didn't really believe there was any other option, since he might have heard this voice and continuously being hurt by an unknown force and sometimes even seen strange people, but he never, _never _had experienced something even remotely similar to all the stuff that had happened today! - then perhaps it wasn't him that was mentally ill but Dr Green that just didn't know enough about different lifestyles? But this meant... this meant that everything they – Dr Green, all the nurses and the other doctors, his relatives – had done to him had been pointless and unfair and wrong... no. It couldn't be.

Just when Harry had come to the conclusion that it would have been _much_ easier just to stay in his cupboard, a dirty rag, lying on a stool in front of the line of first-years, started to sing. _Sing_! He had to keep himself from running. Apparently, though, nobody else suffered from the same discomfort Harry did, since once the rag had finished, the hall burst into applause.

The stern Professor told them to try on the hat – apparently the rag wasn't a rag after all – in order to be sorted, and Harry felt Ron, who was standing next to him, sigh with relieve. No troll, then.

"Abbott, Hannah!" Professor McGonagall called, and a girl dashed forward, sat on the stool and Professor McGonagall placed the hat on her head. Or rather, over her head, since the hat was far to big. After only a few moments, the hat called – _called!_ - "HUFFLEPUFF!", and Hannah ran to the cheering table on the right side of the Great Hall.

After a while, Harry, too bewildered to actually pay attention to his surroundings, became aware of someone -Ron- poking him in the ribs.

"It's your turn, mate!" Ron hissed. Numbly, Harry stepped forward. Professor McGonagall looked furious. Again. Apparently, he had been day-dreaming and hadn't heard her calling his name.

Sitting on the stool Harry flinched when the large, old hat slit over his eyes, down to his nose.

"Hm, where to put you...?" Harry heard someone saying. What was this? Who was talking? This wasn't the demon that normally kept talking in his head. It didn't sound like it at all, and additionally the demon had never spoken to Harry in a friendly manner.

"No fear, Mr Potter, it's just me... the hat" the voice added, sensing the boy's growing panic. Honestly, he couldn't understand why nowadays they had to frighten the children by not telling them beforehand how they would be sorted. It would make his job much more easier if he didn't have to soothe half of the children down before he was able to delve into their minds. However, this child was even worse than the average first-year. The hat sensed that the boy's panic didn't recede like it normally would after the child had been made aware of who was talking (and that the hat didn't have any intention of spilling out the its most-guarded secrets in front of the entire student body), but on the contrary, kept growing.

It was only a few seconds later that something happened that had never happened before, or at least not in living memory.

Harry started to scream, tore the hat from his head and ran towards the doors that led into the Entrance Hall, obviously trying to escape. For a moment, everyone, including the teachers, was too stunned to do anything. What was the matter with this child? What was the matter with _Harry Potter_ ? Just when the boy reached the doors, a beam of light hit him, he stumbled and almost fell. At the staff-table, Severus Snape was putting his wand away.

"Eh, Mr Potter!" Professor McGonagall called, "what... no, eh, you can't just run, you have to wait until the Sorting Hat has made his decision!"

"NO!" Harry shouted, "I WON'T! JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!"

"Mr Potter, this is not the time for arguing, you WILL be sorted! Now!" Professor Snape had risen from the staff-table and approached Harry, who was, apparently, still unable to move. "No matter how overindulgent your relatives might have treated you, you will behave, and you won't receive any special treatment just because you are the 'boy-who-lived'"! The last bit was said with a sneer.

"NO! NO! YOU CAN'T! LET ME GO! Harry kept screaming. He had long since stopped thinking clearly, the only thing that mattered to him now was to run, to get away.

But the potion master had other ideas. "Mr Potter," he spoke in a low, threatening whisper, while he grabbed the boy by his arm and pulled him towards the stool, where a flabbergasted Professor McGonagall was holding the hat in one and her wand in the other hand. "I won't have you act like your damned father. It doesn't matter whether you are famous or used to being treated like a prince, to me, you are just a pathetic little first year with a head much too big for my liking. So if you don't want to get detention before you have even been sorted, I suggest you behave and let the hat do its work! No argument!"

He positioned Harry, who was still unable to move on his own, on the stool and motioned the transfiguration-professor to put the hat back on his head. But even after she had done so, Snape didn't return to the staff-table but kept staying next to Harry, holding his wand loosely, but nevertheless ready to strike should the child decide to disobey in any way.

"Ah, child, it wasn't my intention to frighten you... no, don't panic again, just... no, just keep calm, nothing will happen, I just have to decide which House suits you best. It will only take a moment... yes, I think there isn't a question... oh no, what's this? Strange... very strange, I haven't seen anything like this before... oh, this is dark, very dark, yes, I'm afraid... But-"

"You are to put me in one of these houses?" Harry demanded.

"Eh, yes, if course, little one. I'm the Sorting Hat, didn't you listen to my song?! I have spent a whole year creating it, and I must say I'm rather proud of it, it was one of the best songs I have ever invented! You must see, it isn't very easy to think up new songs each year, not with all the requirements it has to meet! No, it's quite a lot of work, you know, I'm forbidden to be too explicit at what the founders wanted their pupils to be, but at the same time I have to cover every important aspect. And I'm most certainly not allowed to favour any house, so it's very difficult, you know, for me, being the hat of Godric. And then-" But the hat was interrupted again. Well, he might have rambled a bit, but it wasn't an easy life for a hat which had the ability to think and speak but could only use those skills once a year!

"You... you aren't in my head?"

"Of course not, what are you thinking, boy, I'm _on_ your head! And now I really have to decide where to put you... oh no, this isn't good, no, not at all... I see, the muggles have invented a new means to fight magic? Or perhaps just the dark one? But no, it affects light and dark equally, yes... no accidental magic since you were five, hu? Yes, I think it's obvious, then... there isn't really much of a choice, Slytherin being the only house where children like you can possibly flourish..."

"SLYTHERIN?!" Harry called out (even later he wasn't sure whether he had called it out loud, however, nobody commented on it), again almost panicking, though for different reasons than a few minutes earlier, "but I can't go to Slytherin, all the evil people are in Slytherin, they have told me- no, please not Slytherin, I do everything, but please, I can't go to this house, everyone will hate me and Ron, Ron will never talk to me again - please, I know I'm a worthless freak but please don't put me in Slytherin! I keep working very hard to be good, I will, I promise, I won't hurt anyone or do anything freakish any more but don't put me with the slimy evil snakes please..." Harry was almost in tears.

"Hu? Who told you all this rubbish about Slytherin being evil? Complete codswallop! No, you will do well in Slytherin... - hm, you might not be a typical snake but they will help you to overcome the difficulties of your past... yes, I can't see any other house that could help you with... but wait. No. No, this can't be. No, stop, this is completely impossible! How could THIS possibly be in your head?! This is madness! No... what happened to you, child?"

The hat was at a loss. He had never seen anything similar. Two souls – well, one and a little piece of another one – in one body? Yes, the hat knew that some wizards experimented with magic that affected the soul... he knew it was possible to break a soul, either by accident or purposefully. Only powerful wizards could break their soul purposefully, though under certain circumstances the accidental splitting of a soul was quite common. Well, more common than the purposeful splitting of it at least. Oh yes, the hat had seen its fair share of such splintered souls... especially during the time of the great inquisition. There had been so many children that had escaped these muggle-brutes only by an inch of their life.. children who had already gone to the stake, who had been rescued by their parents – or any witch or wizard – while the stake was already burning... some children had been more lucky, had been rescued after only a little bit of torture that usually had preceded the burning. The hat supposed there were many wizarding children he had never gotten to know in the first place, because there wasn't anyone who had been there in time... A terrible time it hat been, yes... so many life lost... adult witches and wizards might have been able to defend themselves, at least most of the time, but children who had yet to learn magic? Sure, some of them got away on their own, thanks to their accidental magic, but many... well, the hat had seen things he dearly wished to forget.

'But back to the child at hand', it admonished himself. It could dwell on old times later. Yes, on the one hand, this child was similar to those children centuries ago, but on the other hand, it was totally different. This wasn't a split soul. These two pieces... they didn't belong together! And he could clearly see that the soul of the child was whole! Damaged, maybe, due to his rough childhood and all this strange, disgusting stuff the child's head was flooded with... honestly, what _was _this stuff? And how had it managed to come into the child's head? This was more revolting than the damage inflicted by an Imperius! -, yes, the soul was clearly disturbed, but _not_ broken! So _how_ had a foreign piece of a soul entered the child's mind? And apparently stayed there for a very long time?

The head wasn't stupid. He knew about Horcruxes. But it had never known that a living being could become one. It was considered impossible! It also knew to whom that piece of a soul belonged to. As if it could ever forget the young orphaned boy- so much like this one, incidentally (or not?). There had only been one option to which house Tom Riddle could go, and the hat hasn't hesitated to sort him accordingly. But during the last twenty, thirty years it had often asked himself whether this had been a wise decision. Whether it might have been better, this one time, to ignore everything the founders had asked it to do and just to put him into a house where he could do as few damage as possible. Maybe it was only the close proximity to the current headmaster that let it think so, this old coot with all his greater good, but who knows...

Well, it couldn't change the past. But it would most certainly not make the same mistake twice. There was no way it what sort Tom Riddle – even if it where only a tiny part of him - into Slytherin again. It might be at the expense of the boy he had been supposed to sort originally, but no, he couldn't do this. The risk would be far too big. But perhaps it _could _pass a few hints to the headmaster? Something had to be done about this boy. Not only because of the Horcrux but also because of all this goo and sludge in the boy's head. It would prevent him from doing magic, after all, it had already prevented him from doing magic accidentally!

The hat became aware of the mounting worry and restlessness of the child on whose head it was currently positioned, and a few moments later it noticed that the Great Hall, instead of being completely silent like it normally was when the hat did its job, was humming with the whispers of hundreds of students. Well yes, it _had _taken some time to sort this out, but it wasn't everyday you had to sort such a confusing head, the hat thought grumpily.

"OK, child, not Slytherin then... Ravenclaw? I don't know, I don't know... you certainly are eager to learn... but brave, too, yes... hm, well, any preferences...?"

"Uh, I like Gryffindor. Like my parents. And Ron and Hagrid say that Gryffindor is good. Ron thinks he'll go to Gryffindor, and I really would like to stay with him... he's my very first friend - well, apart from Hedwig, my owl- , you know, I never had friends before..."

"Hm, all right... I would have said Hufflepuff, but well, perhaps Gryffindor is indeed the best option for you... good luck, child you'll need it, oh yes... good luck – GRYFFINDOR!"

Harry felt the hat being lifted and blinked at the sudden light. He hadn't realized how bright thousands of candles could be. Giving the stern professors next to him an uncertain look, Harry headed to the cheering table. He didn't register the curious looks he got from many students and every teacher.

His sorting had been the longest during the last ten years or so, and this despite everyone being sure the boy-who-lived would be a Gryffindor. Perhaps the hat was getting old? It couldn't have possibly considered sorting the conqueror of you-know-who himself anywhere else!

After the Potter-brat had seated himself – predictably – on the Gryffindor-table, Snape returned to his own seat at the staff-table, deep in thoughts. He wasn't worried, oh no, he would never worry about a Potter, but he couldn't help feeling somehow curious about the brats behaviour... and about the abnormal length of his sorting. True, Potter had ended up in Gryffindor, just as he had known all along he would, but unlike the students and the other teachers (except McGonagall, of course), Snape had been able to hear the muttering of the child... at one point, he had almost been sure Potter said something about "not being Slytherin". But this couldn't be. No sane person would ever suggest that a _Potter_ belonged to Slytherin! Well, of course, the hat could hardly be called a person, and whether it was sane or not was quite doubtful, too, but nevertheless... well, maybe he had just misunderstood the boy? It had only been a whisper, after all.

But couldn't this be the reason the boy had decided to run? Of course, every Potter considered himself too good to be a slimy snake, and if the hat had suggested putting him in this very house...?  
But then, why had the brat fought as if he was being led to a torture chamber (rather than a hat who would never send a child to a house it truly didn't want to go, as Severus knew for sure) when he had made him go back to the stool and Minerva? Only for attention? But the boy had been well and truly terrified... no eleven year old could deceive Severus Snape! It didn't make sense...

Determined not to think more than necessary about a _Potter_, and pondering about asking Minerva whether she had understood what the boy had muttered, Severus turned his attention to the headmaster, who just had exclaimed the rubbish that normally preceded the start-of-term feast. Dumbeldore didn't looked worried. He had thought that the old wizard might be somewhat disturbed about his golden boy not being sorted to Gryffindor right away, but if he was, he didn't let it show. 'Devious old coot', Severus thought. Dumbledore was the only one who was a match for him as far as hiding his true feelings was concerned.

His musings were interrupted by the appearance of all kind of fancy meals. When he helped himself to some roast beef and gravy, his eyes accidentally fell on a certain new Gryffindor. The boy stared at the food as if he had never seen a decent meal before. Trying to shake of the uneasy feeling that increased with every thought about Potter, Severus turned his attention to the babbling Quirrell next to him.

###

On the Gryffindor-table, Harry had discovered his liking for mint humbugs. He only ate some meat and potatoes when Ron, who had been sorted into Gryffindor almost as quickly as the blond snake had ended up in Slytherin, asked him whether he didn't like "real" food. Harry had mumbled something about not having had many sweets before, and another red-head, probably one of Ron's many brothers, had enlightened him that there would be plenty of pudding, too.  
He thought it was pretty neat to be a Gryffindor. Not only had he managed to go to the same house as his very first friend, but all the other people (and the ghost) sitting at the table seemed to be rather nice, too. So far, no one had made fun of Harry, only a few curious glances had been directed at him when he had stared at the knife next to his plate with a mixture of awe and horror for at least two minutes.

On the closed ward, they had never gotten knives, and his Aunt had stopped giving him one, too, after the demon had tried to stab Harry's hand. He had been very grateful that his Aunt made sure the demon wouldn't hurt him, and now he wondered whether the thing would try it again, now that it had a knife at his disposal again. He hoped it wouldn't. Harry was sure he would lose his friend if the demon did it. Nobody liked a freak, after all.

* * *

**Next Chapter: The first night, the teacher learn about Harry taking medicine and (most importantly^^) Severus Snape!  
**


	12. Something isn't right - is it?

_I don't own Harry Potter_

_As always, thanks for reading my stuff, I hope you'll like this next bit of the story!  
I have proof-readed this chapter twice and have corrected quite a few errors, I hope I haven't missed too many!_

* * *

**Chapter 12 - Something isn't right - is it?  
**

.

Harry was almost asleep when Percy Weasley – a Gryffindor prefect and one of Ron's brothers – finally led the five new Gryffindor-boys into their dormitory, where five magnificent four-poster beds were waiting for them. Harry inwardly groaned when he realized that he was supposed to sleep in one of them. Why couldn't he get a nice, small, dark cupboard? He would be much more comfortable there. Shouldn't a school make sure the pupils were well-rested? After all, they had to attend all kind of classes every day! On the ward, it hadn't really mattered whether you could sleep or not, there hadn't been anything important you needed to do, after all. But in a school...?  
The other boys, though seemed delighted and stormed towards their preferred beds. It took only a few moments for Ron, Neville, Dean and Seamus to figure out that, apparently, it had already been decided which boy would sleep in which bed, their trunks and other belongings already put away in the respective wardrobes and bedside tables. It seemed that the bed at the far end of the room would be Harry's. Sighing, the boy made his was to his new sleeping place.  
He didn't notice the odd looks three of the other boys were casting at him

"Ehm, well, good night, mate!" Ron, who had gotten the bed next to Harry's, said, unsure of what to made of the strange behaviour of the boy-who-lived. Harry didn't reply, though, and after a few rather awkward moments the other boy started to get ready for bed - it had been a very long day, and nobody wanted to oversleep on their first day of classes.

Harry, however, remained standing next to his bed, gazing into nothingness. It was only when the curtains that surrounded every single bed to allow the boys a minimum of privacy were closed that he snapped out of his daze. Quietly, because he wasn't sure how the other boy's would react if he made any noise, he went to the wardrobe next to his bed. Yes. All the things he had put in his suitcase back at Privet Drive were there. Who had brought them into the room, who had unpacked his stuff? He didn't like the thought of somebody else rummaging through is clothes and books. It was too reminiscent to the weekly searches conducted at the hospital.

But at least he was allowed to have all his things with him rather all of it being locked away, Harry thought. He grabbed a pair of pyjamas and quickly changed. Now came the bad part. He really, really didn't want to sleep in this bed! He would have nightmares, and who knew whether the teachers wouldn't do the same they had done in hospital, tying him up to the bed? No, he couldn't... he couldn't do this. But where else could he sleep? He was very tired, he needed a place to sleep. Perhaps he could wrap himself in the thick blanket that was lying on top of the bed and lie down in the corner? It seemed to be the most reasonable option, since the wardrobes were definitely too small for him to sleep in.

It turned out, though, that sleeping while leaning on a very cold and hard stone wall was impossible. After 10 or 15 minutes of shivering, Harry looked for another safe sleeping place. And found one when he noticed that in this dormitory, there was much more space between the floor and the underside of the fancy bed than there had been in Dudley's second bedroom. Additionally, the stone floor was covered with a thick, plush carpet, so he wouldn't get cold and could even sleep comfortably, something he hadn't been able to do since the Dursley's had thrown him out of his cupboard.

Happily, Harry made his was under his bed and was asleep in less than five minutes.

Some time during the night, Ron awoke and thought he heard a faint murmuring. It increased with time and just when the red-head decided that perhaps it would be better to make sure the other boy's were al right – Ron knew how nasty nightmares could be, having had quite a few ones himself after the incident with his teddy bear, the twins and the spider – he heard a rather loud bang and it was silent again. Well. He didn't know what had made the bang, but it was quiet now, so he didn't have to leave his warm, comfortable bed, did he? After all, if one if the other boy's had hurt himself he would have screamed or cried or at least sworn. And with that reassuring thought, Ron drifted of again.

* * *

The next morning brought about an alarming surprise for the four Gryffindor first-years that had slept _in_ their beds rather than under them.  
After Harry had not risen even when the other boys were making quite some noise, getting ready for school, Neville (who, in contrast to Harry, had been awoken by his noisy dorm-mates) suggested that perhaps they should wake Harry, since he might have forgotten to set his alarm clock, too. Ron approached Harry's bed, that's curtains had been drawn rather sloppily, and was shocked when he found it empty, and with the blanket missing.

"Eh, perhaps he has already gone down to breakfast?" Seamus suggested.

"Nah, we would have heard him leaving!", said Dean, "and why should he get up this early anyway? Perhaps he sneaked out during the night and got lost in the castle?"

Ron looked into the adjoining bathroom, and even checked the lavatory, but Harry wasn't there. "HARRY!" he called, after he had re-entered the room. Perhaps he was hiding somewhere? Suddenly, there was a rustling noise and the missing boy appeared from under his bed. The four other occupants of the dormitory stared at him with a mixture of annoyance and amusement, which quickly changed to shock, though, when they became aware of a nasty bump on Harry's forehead and traces of something that looked alarmingly like dried blood on his face.

"What happened to you, mate?" Ron asked, "Why were you under your bed? We have been searching for you, why didn't you come out? And what happened to your face?"

"Uh..." Harry wasn't really sure what to say. What was the matter with his face? And why had the other boys been searching for him? "I slept. I'm sorry, I didn't know it was time to get up."

"You slept? But you were under your bed!" One of the boys Harry didn't know asked.

"Yes. I slept. I don't like beds very much." Harry really didn't want to discus his sleeping-habits with all these boys. Surely they would laugh at him. Only cowardly freaks were afraid of sleeping in beds, after all.

"But what happened to your face?"

"What's wrong with my face?" Harry really got annoyed now. They should leave him alone! He didn't want to answer stupid questions! Everything was just fine!

"Uhm, it's all bloody..." Dean broke of, uncertain. This boy was weird – and no matter what everyone had told him about Harry Potter being the boy-who-lived and a hero and brave and all kind of other stuff, he didn't seem to be very nice. And he was funny, too. You just had to look at him, he was much smaller than everyone else and he constantly squinted and rolled his eyes and twitched and... well, he just was so _different. _"Well, I think I'll go down to the Great Hall. Breakfast has already started I think..." And with that, he left. Seamus followed him straight away and Neville, after an apologizing look at Ron and a frightened one at Harry, left, too.

"Uhm, mate – I think you better hurry up. ' don't think McGonagall will like it if we are late on our first full day! Eh, do you need help?"

Harry looked at him puzzled. Why should he need help? SURELY this boy wasn't going to watch him using the loo? "No. I'm fine." Harry replied.

The red-headed boy, however, made no move to follow the others out of the door. "Ok. I just wait for you then!" Ron didn't really know why he wanted to stay with the other boy – well, apart from that strange or not, he _was _Harry Potter -, but somehow he had decided he liked him, despite his odd behaviour.

###

It was only five minutes later when both boys – Harry's face now reasonably clean - hurried down to breakfast. They were lucky that a few of the older Gryffindors were late, too, otherwise it would have been impossible to find the Great Hall. Ron noticed the stares they – well, Harry – received from almost everyone else. And while this wasn't really surprising, Ron overheard some of the older pupils whispering about the boy-who-lived being strange and a group of Hufflepuffs even wondered whether he might be dangerous.

This annoyed Ron. How could they think of Harry being dangerous just because he might be somehow different?! Ron knew that being different was not the same as being dangerous, after all, he had witnessed many arguments between his parents – especially his mum – and his second-oldest brothers about his choice of career. His mum had rambled about why Charlie couldn't have chosen a normal job but had set on doing "a job only the craziest people – or half-giants – choose to do, breeding the most dangerous creature's wizards knew of!". Ron, however, admired Charlie for being brave enough to work with _dragons._ And Charlie wasn't dangerous, so why should the boy-who-lived be dangerous only because he wasn't like anybody else? Sure, sometimes Harry _was _kind of creepy, when he was mumbling to himself just like now, for example, but Ron was determined not to let Harry scare him away. Ron was a Gryffindor, too, after all!

Ron's determination was tested, though, when he saw Harry swallowing three big, with pieces of – well, of something Ron had no clue what it was. "Eh, mate, are you sure it was a good idea to eat these things?" He asked, doubtfully.

"I need to take my medicine. Do you now whether they have a doctor or a nurse in this place? My Aunt said I needed to hand over my medicine. And I need to get 'jections, too."

"'jections?"

"Injections. So that the demon can't get you. I need to get them by a nurse. Or a doctor."

"Demon...? But... well, there is Madame Pomfrey – she's the school nurse. Are you ill? Or is it because of your head?"

"Yes. I need to see the nurse. My Aunt and Dr Green will be very mad if I don't hand over my medicine and get my 'jections."

"Uh, perhaps you should ask Professor McGonagall? - Our head of house," Ron added, after a quizzically look from Harry. Apparently, the other boy was very bad with names. "She'll show you the hospital wing if you're ill. Uhm, perhaps I should come with you?"

They were interrupted (though Ron wasn't even sure whether Harry would have answered anyway) by the very Professor they had just talked about, handing out timetables.

"Mr Weasley, Mr Potter – Your timeta-... Mr Potter, what have you done to your head?!" The stern witch demanded, having noticed the big red bump on the boy's forehead, and even a few spots of red that looked suspiciously like blood.

"I'm sorry, Professor!" Harry said, alarmed by the fierce expression on the witch's face. He hoped she wouldn't send him back to hospital right away. He knew he had to fight the demon, but at some point during the night, he hadn't managed to react quickly enough and the demon had smashed his head against the underside of the bed before Harry could do anything. "Uhm, I need to see the nurse, well, because..." He added, unsure, only to be interrupted by the professor.

"Yes, Mr Potter, this is obvious. Now, are you finished with breakfast? - All right, then let's go, you might even be in time for classes if we hurry up. No Mr Weasley, there is no need for you accompanying Mr Potter, he will join you shortly!"

* * *

Madame Pomfrey was surprised when her first patient came in before classes had even started.

"Ah, Minerva! What can I do for you? Oh, and you are...?"

"Poppy, Mr Potter here has injured himself. I trust -" But the Transfiguration Professor was interrupted by the small child next to her.

"I need to give you this!" Harry said, and handed a very thick envelope to the surprised nurse.

"Uh- what IS this, Mr Potter? And what has happened to your head? Minerva, what's the meaning of this?"

"I don't know – Mr Potter, what's in this envelope? If this is some kind of prank you will be in trouble, so you better -"

"My Aunt and Dr Green said I should give you this," Harry addressed the nurse. He didn't like all these people asking what was wrong with his head. Could they somehow _see _that he was crazy? Perhaps they could read his mind... or see through his skull? He shuddered. "It's my medicine. Dr Green has written a letter, so that you know what I have to take. And I have to get injections every week. Dr Green said he had written everything in the letter so that you know what you are supposed to give me. He said Aunt Petunia should make sure that you got the letter and the medicine, but Aunt Petunia said that she wouldn't talk to freaks – well, she didn't tell Dr Green, she would never say something like this to my Doctor, you know, he isn't supposed to know that there are others like me, she only said it after we were back at Privet Drive – well, and gave me everything and told me what to say."

Harry's statement was met with silence. The professor and the nurse gaped at the boy. What the hell was he talking about?!

"Ehm, can I go to classes?" He asked, unsure because of the strange looks he got from the two witches.

"No Mr Potter, certainly not... what has happened to your head? How did you get this bump? And what is this about?" Madame Pomfrey asked, raising the envelope.

"Uh, nothing. Everything's fine. Really! Please, don't... I just want to go to classes, please! Promise I'm good! I will fight harder, I promise! You can even give me additional medicine if you want to, but I really want to go to classes! I haven't been in school for ages, please, and I don't want to miss the first day!"

"Mr Potter, stop this babbling!" Professor McGonagall groaned inwardly. This would be a very long day, and it was only September 2nd . "Madame Pomfrey need to heal your head and then you have to explain what is going on! Perhaps I should call for Albus... perhaps he knows what's going on here. Old coot, never telling anyone about his little schemes..." The last bit was said more to herself than to one of the other two currently present.

"Well, for now I need to heal your head, Mr Potter. We can talk later about everything else. So if you would sit on this bed?"

"But there is really nothing wrong with my head..."

"Yes, I can see this," the nurse added sarcastically. What was the matter with the boy? Was he afraid of being healed magically? Or did he want to appear brave and tough by not admitting that he was hurt? Gryffindors... "Mr Potter, I can assure you it won't hurt a bit, and nobody need to know about this. If you would just sit down, everything will be over in a minute and you can join your classmates."

"NO! I won't sit on this bed! You want to trick me, I know it, but I'm not stupid!" Harry's voice got louder and louder.

"Mr Potter there is no need to scream. If you doesn't want to sit on the bed you can just sit on one of the chairs over there. But you _will_ sit down. I won't risk you getting dizzy because of the magic and fall down, injuring yourself even more!"

Harry was confused. Would they tie him to the chair instead of the bed? And why did these people make such a fuss about a little bump? Even the nurses on the ward hadn't bothered to call a doctor or do anything more than admonish him and make a note in his file when he had woken up with a little bump. Well, at first they had, but this had long since stopped. But perhaps these people were different?  
While he was still contemplating whether it was wise to sit down or if it might be more reasonable to run, the nurse sighed, took one of the chairs and put it directly behind Harry. Nonplussed, Harry sat down. What the hell...?

"Now, Mr Potter, if you would just sit still for a moment..." Said the nurse, raising her sti- eh wand. Harry flinched. Was she going to hit him?! But no, she just made a funny movement and suddenly, he felt his forehead tingling. It didn't hurt, but it certainly felt funny.

"Ok, Mr Potter, do you still feel any pain?"

Harry shook his head in the negative. He hadn't felt pain even before the nurse had made his head tingle. "Can I go now? I took my medicine with breakfast! Shall I come to see you at lunch? Or will you come to the Great Hall to hand out the pills? And when shall I come to get my first 'jection? Dr Green always gave me one on Monday and the other one on Thursday..."

"What do you mean, medicine? Are you ill, Mr Potter?" Madame Pomfrey, being a half-blood and raised in the wizarding world, never had much contact with muggles, but as a school nurse, she knew very well what "medicine" was. Some muggleborns preferred them over potions, at least until they had experienced how far more effective some potions were, even if they tasted horribly.

"Uh, yes. They've all said so, anyway. I don't really know whether I'm ill or the demon is ill, though... but it doesn't really matter, because the demon is in my head. So I have to take medicine. If I don't take my medicine, I'll get worse. Yes, my Aunt always says that she couldn't handle me if I didn't take medicine. So when shall I come to get my injections?"

"Mr Potter, are you telling me that you have to take medicine on a regular basis?"

"Yes. I have to take three different pills in the morning, two at lunch, three in the evening and another one directly before I go to sleep. I'm not supposed to take this one early, because it makes me really really tired. And then I have to get injections-"

"But... you can't take all this stuff! You are only a little boy, surely it must be unhealthy?! No, Mr Potter, I can't just give you all this po- eh, medicine, and I don't think it would even be necessary, you look very healthy to me. Perhaps a bit undernourished, yes, but this can be helped by a simple potion that is far more effective than all this medicine. Now, perhaps you could explain why the muggles thought that you should take all this substances? Is this some kind of new fashion? Surely even muggles must realize that-" but the medi-witch was interrupted by a rather angry Harry.

"YOU CAN'T DO THIS! I _HAVE_ TO TAKE MY MEDICINE! You just want to get me back to hospital because I'm too freaky even for your school! But I won't go, no, and you NEED to give me the medicine! You can't let the demon get me! And my Aunt will blame me for stopping taking the pills, and Uncle Vernon said that I'm not allowed to come back to Privet Drive if I didn't take the medicine! Please, I don't want to go back to hospital! I promise I won't do anything bad but please! I-"

"MR POTTER STOP THIS SCREAMING! I can assure you I have no intention to send you to a hospital, but you can't be serious, taking all this stuff! I'm a school nurse, I'm supposed to heal patients, not to drug them constantly!"

"BUT YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND, THE DEMON WILL GET ME IF I DON'T TAKE MY MEDICINE! AND THEN THEY WILL LOCK ME UP AGAIN AND TIE ME TO A BED! AND DR GREEN WILL BE SOOOOO MAD! He says it's really, really important that I take my medicine regularly, and he is a doctor, he knows these kind of things! He says that it'll get worse if I don't take it, please, I don't want the demon to kill me!" Harry was sobbing by now. Why didn't these people understand?

"Calm yourself, Mr Potter, and stop this babbling! Nobody will _lock you up_! Now, perhaps it would be the best if you would go to classes – if you feel able to? - and I will... _discuss_ this with the headmaster. Minerva?"

The transfiguration professor was, by now, completely confused. A screaming and sobbing Harry Potter, who had, apparently, taken some kind of potions that weren't very healthy - or were they - on a regular basis? What was the _matter _with this child? Had the muggles something to do with everything? Had they tried to poison Harry? Minerva remembered the fat lump and the annoying woman that Albus had decided would be the right guardians for little Harry Potter. Well, perhaps they were, the boy was alive, after all... but what if they had done something horrible to him? Perhaps these – eh, mesin? - were some sort of slow-acting venom? Perhaps this was the reason Harry behaved so strangely? "Eh, well, ok, I will bring Harry to his first class- yes, he'll only be a few minutes late, I'm sure Filius won't mind. Then – eh, perhaps we should arrange a meeting with Albus?"

"Yes yes," Poppy, who had begun to rummage through the envelope and was even now unfolding a sheet of paper, absent-mindedly said, "I think I'll ask Severus about this... this medicine. I don't really know very much about this kind of drugs... affecting the mind... oh my... no, they can't be serious..."

"Eh, ok, Mr Potter, if you would follow me." Professor McGonagall turned around and marched through the infirmary door. It was only a few seconds later when she noticed that the boy wasn't behind her but still standing in the infirmary.

"Mr Potter, I believe I have said you should follow me. I will bring you to your first lesson, as I don't think you would be able to find the way on your own, the castle can be a bit overwhelming during the first few weeks."

"But...but... but I NEED my medicine! You can't just- you have to promise! You have to promise to give them to me! Please please please please... you can't just... YOU HAVE TO GIVE ME MY MEDICINE! I WON'T LET YOU LOCK ME UP AGAIN ONLY BECAUSE YOU ARE TOO STUPID TO GIVE ME THE PILLS!"

"IT'S ENOUGH NOW, MR POTTER!" Professor McGonagall just wished the child would stop screaming. It didn't make sense! Why would he _willingly _swallow poisonous substances? She didn't even register that the hero of the wizarding world had just called her 'stupid',"You _will _follow me now, no argument! Madame Pomfrey will sort this out-"

"BUT-"

"- and give you your me- mecin once she had made sure it is safe to do so!"

"You mean I get my stuff?"

"Yes, Mr Potter, you'll get it once we have made sure that, ehm, that everything is all right with it." Well, it wasn't really a lie, Minerva consoled herself. If these things were harmless, there was no reason to deny him taking them, wasn't there?

"Oh. Ok. I'm sorry. ' didn't mean to...uuuh...nonono, stupid stupid freak! ... Now... I can go to classes?"

"Yes, Mr Potter, that's what I have trying to make you do during the last five minutes. Now follow me. Poppy- ehm, I trust you have everything under control?"

"What? Eh, yes, of course. I'll floo Severus. Yes. This can't be right-"

"I get my medicine?"

"Yes, yes..." It was clear that the medi-witch wasn't really listening.

"Ok, I'll join you later!" Minerva said, and before anything the medi-witch might say could lead to another outburst from the boy currently glancing back and forth between the two witches, she motioned Harry to leave the room.

* * *

Poppy, meanwhile, resolutely walked to the fireplace next to her office, took a handful of the silvery powder out of a cup on the mantelpiece and tossed it into the fireplace. Immediately, green flames erupted from the grate. Perhaps it was fortunately that Harry was already gone, because Merlin knew how he might have reacted to the medi-witch sticking her head into the fire, shouting "Severus Snape's quarters!"

The potion master had just enjoyed the last few minutes before the first lesson of the school year - 5th years Gryffindors and Ravenclaws – would start when he heard his floo going off. He was surprised when he saw Poppy's head. Had a Slytherin fallen ill? Or had Minerva's brats decided so start the war early? Normally, the first fights between Gryffindor and Slytherins only happened after school was in session for at least a few days.

"Severus?"

"Yes? What's the matter? I hope there hasn't already occurred the first major drama?" He growled. Just what he wanted. Spending his last dunderhead-free minutes arguing with Poppy – or more likely, Minerva - about who had attacked whom.

"Eh, Severus, I'm sorry to disturb you, but I'd require your assistance with – eh, some rather funny business. You see, one of the new students – muggle-raised – has just brought me an alarming amount of potions – eh, I mean, muggle-medicine – and told me he was supposed to take this stuff regularly. I'm not sure about everything, and perhaps you could have a look at it? I don't think it's ordinary medicine, I have never heard of it before... " Poppy was smart enough to realize that it would not be wise to reveal that the student in question was the son of one of the boys Severus had been tormented by during his own school-days.

"Sure." As if he had any other option, really. "Does this matter need immediate attention or would it be suffice if I came after lunch? Not that I would prefer teaching a bunch of dunderheads over doing something that might at least be useful, but I suppose Albus wouldn't agree..."

"No no, it's quite all right if you could join me after lunch."

"A pity."

###

And so it was that, after a quick lunch, Severus Snape strode towards the infirmary, hoping that it wouldn't already be occupied by homesick first-years. It seemed he was lucky, though, because the hospital wing was completely empty. Well, besides Poppy, who was doing paperwork in her office.

"Ah, Severus! Thank you for your assistance! Now, this-" Poppy indicated at a rather large accumulation of muggle-pills on a table beside her, "I have received all of it from one of the new first-years. He seemed to be of the opinion that he was supposed to take at least six pills each day, well, and got very upset when I denied his request. Minerva – it's a Gyffindor and Minerva had brought him to see me because he had somehow acquired a nasty bump during the night – managed to calm him down, but it seems that he has taken this stuff for quite some time already. I have looked into it, and it doesn't seem to be normal medicine at all. I have never heard of most of it, only this one" - she motioned towards some of the blister packs, "it's Valium. It's quite a strong sedative, I don't think I've ever heard of a student who had to take it before. But all the other stuff..."

When the medi-witched mentioned that the child in question had been accompanied to the infirmary by the head of Gryffindor because of a bump, Severus groaned inwardly. Potter. He had seen very well the blue and red lump on the brat's forehead and Minerva making him join her to who-know-where. "It's Potter's medicine, isn't it?" He asked, hoping for small mercies.

"Eh- yes. How do you know?" Poppy asked, surprised and a bit embarrassed at being caught omitting this particular detail.

"I _saw_ the brat in the morning." Severus bit back. Wonderful. Just when he had finally convinced himself that there was nothing wrong with the little miscreant and that the incident during the boy's sorting had just been some sort of accident or maybe coincident. But no, apparently there was indeed something wrong with this brat.

"Well, let me have a look at this shi-" Better to get it over with quickly.

"Severus Snape! There is no reason to be vulgar!"

"Hmpf" He didn't deign to respond to this. Instead, he went to the table and took a closer look at the different blister packs and ampoules. Why did the brat had to get injections?

"Did the brat give any explanation as to _why_ he should have to take all this stuff?"

"No, ehm, well, there was a letter... it was with all this medicine, it states how much Harry is supposed to take of the different kind of pills, and when he has to get injections – imagine, pricking a mere child with a needle two time a week! This is just cruel! - well, and there are some funny sounding words and figures that don't really make any sense to me... perhaps something mugglish?" The medi-witch handed the potion professor the letter and the man quickly read it.

There wasn't much information. Apparently, the author of this peculiar letter had imagined that whoever read it would be familiar with the issue. A few words caught his eyes. _Schizophrenia... Psychosis_... he had heard of those. He didn't really know where, though. He wasn't even sure it had been during the perusal of a muggle book or whether wizards, well, at least some healers, were familiar with it, too.  
He did read muggle-books, quite frequently, to be honest. Severus might have once been a follower of he-who-must-not-be-named, but he wasn't stupid. He knew that muggles probably had accomplished more during the last two centuries than wizards had. Hell, most wizards didn't even know that it had been muggles, not wizards, that travelled to the moon! Or that it had been muggles who invented methods to kill not one or two or even ten, but tens of thousands of human beings with one single strike.

But be it as it may, it seemed that he had some research to do. Someone had to find out what this psychosis-stuff were, and whether it was dangerous. If it required a child to take pills each day. And since it wasn't likely that anybody else in this school would know something about these matters, not with the headmaster's knowledge of muggles limited to the London Underground, the latest news about attacks, murders and funny accidents and, of course, the newest candies, this someone would likely be Severus himself. At least, he had a basic knowledge of how to dress properly as a muggle and, more importantly, about muggle-medicine.  
His eyes then fell on what appeared to be the names of the medication currently lying on the table in front of him, the dosages and the number of times Potter had to take it. _Valium_. Poppy had mentioned this, but Severus had never heard of it before. Well, something else to find out. _Phenergan and Leponex . _He didn't know either of those, but the names sounded somehow... creepy. The last name, however, stirred something in the potion masters mind. _Halolperidol_. He wasn't really sure, but it might be possible that there had been an article about this substance – or a similar one? - in _Potions Monthly_. He would need to have a look.

It was the note at the bottom of the letter that bothered Severus the most, though. Why should the child need regular blood tests?! Blood wasn't something to mess with, the potion master had learned this very early during his studies. The reason was simple: While any part of tissue of a human body could be used for potions like Polyjuice, blood was a completely different matter. It wasn't even possible to use blood to make Polyjuice work, not if you wanted to become yourself again, at least. Oh, blood didn't make Polyjuice permanent, no. But it messed with your body, with your brain and with your very magic. It was very well possible to die or to become a permanent resident on the Janus Thickey Ward if you were stupid enough to try it.  
But potions weren't the only field blood could be used – or misused. He involuntary shuddered when he thought back to the things the Dark Lord had done using blood of willing (or unwilling) donors.

"Well? What do you think?"

Severus startled. He had completely forgotten that he was still in Poppy's office. "I need to do some research. I don't know... I think I have heard some of these things the letter mentions, but I'm not sure. Do you know anything else?"

"No... apart from this Valium-stuff I have never heard of _anything_ in this letter. And I only know that Valium is some sort of very strong sedative. Not something you would give to a child, least of all regularly! This... it just can't be right. Perhaps I'm mistaken. Perhaps there is some other substance with the same name..." She sounded doubtfully.

"And about these blood tests?! Surely they can't mean taking blood from the boy on a regular basis?!" Severus was outraged.

Madame Pomfrey expression softened. "It's quite common with muggles, Severus. They really don't have many other means to detect certain illnesses. I know-"

"But- but BLOOD! They can't do this! It's madness!"

"I don't think muggles are able to do much more with blood than to test it for illnesses or certain substances, Severus. I think this is what they have done – tested Harry's blood because of the medicine they gave him."

"So you don't think they... they used Potter in some sort of... of ritual?" Severus asked, quietly.

"No, Severus. I don't think they have harmed the boy... not knowingly, at least. But I can't help..." there was a distinct pause. "I have been medi-witch in this school for almost 20 years. And I have never seen something like this."

* * *

**Next Chapter: The first day of classes and Harry's first real encounter with Severus!  
**


	13. Wands and pills

_I don't own Harry Potter_

_I know, I know, in the books, they weren't taught "Wingardium Leviosa" until Halloween, but as it's the first charm described in the books I thought it would be ok if in this version, they'd learn it on their first day.  
It's quite a long chapter, but at least there is plenty of Severus-Harry interaction. I'm currently in the process of writing chapter 16 and I can promise that the pace of the story will pick up from then, AND that from that chapter onwards, the main focus will lie on Severus and Harry and their relationship!  
_

_And to ease some of your worries, the teachers (Severus;)) will eventually find out what is wrong with Harry and even be able to help him. I like to describe that process in detail, though, since it isn't something the teachers have to deal with regularly and therefore it isn't likely that they know right away._

* * *

**Chapter 13 - Wands and pills  
**

.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" Harry stated, concentrating fiercely. But even his 15th attempt to make the feather float didn't work. He wasn't surprised, though. He hadn't managed to achieve the goal of his first-ever charms-lesson during the last 30 minutes, and he was quite sure that even trying for another 30 minutes wouldn't change this. The girl next to him, however (that had successfully cast the spell on her second try), demanded that he should keep practising. Harry found it rather nice that she was trying to help him and Ron, who had similar problems like he, but he thought that she really wasn't very good in explaining things. He just didn't understand how exactly he should "swish" and "flick" his wand.

Ron, however, seemed to take offence at the girl's behaviour. Well, maybe she _was_ a bit bossy, but Harry thought that this wasn't a reason to grumble about annoying know-it-all's. He found it quite nice that the girl tried to explain what he was supposed to do, instead of doing it for him or making him do it by using force. Harry wasn't really sure how she _could_ force him, but the doctors and nurses on the ward had been able to make him do almost everything, no matter how impossible it seemed, so he didn't doubt it for a second that there _was _a way he could be forced to do this feather-floating-stuff, too.

Just then, Professor Flitwick, the charms teacher, approached the three of them, praising Hermione for doing it right and encouraging him and Ron to try it again.

Harry rather liked the tiny professor. He had imagined all teachers being similar to the two professors he had seen during his sorting, stern and tall and intimidating and practically all-powerful, but while the charms-professor certainly wasn't weak (he had demonstrated the charm by levitating his own, rather heavy-looking desk), he didn't seemed to be that frightening. He had even squeaked when he had called Harry's name at the beginning of the lesson and almost fell from the pile of books he stood on in order to see the class.

Next to him, Ron raised his wand, pointed it at the feather and exclaimed "Wingardium Leviosa!". And sure enough, the feather first quivered, and then rose and hovered a few inches above the table for at least two seconds. As soon as Ron noticed that he had succeeded, however, he gave a surprised yelp and the feather landed back on the table.

"Very good, Mr Weasley!" Professor Flitwick beamed at the boy, "now, Mr Potter, let's see what you can do!"

But no matter how hard Harry tried to make the feather do _something, _it didn't move an inch or even gave a sign of being affected by his magic at all.

"Not to worry, Mr Potter, not to worry! Some people need more time than others to get the hang of it. Just keep practising, and perhaps Mr Weasley and Miss Granger can give you some advice!" And with that, he moved on to the next table where a boy had just made his feather explode.

'At least he he has made something happen.' Harry thought, feeling stupid for not being able to keep up with his friend. Because this was what Ron was, or wasn't he? Harry wasn't really sure, he had never had a friend before (except for Hedwig). Of course, he had talked with other kids, mostly kids that had been on the ward with him. The kids in school hadn't talked to him, and every time he had tried to join them during breaks or lunch, they had given him frightened looks, as if he would attack them or something, and left. And though most children on the ward had been older than he was, some had talked to him. Well, at least when he had been allowed to join the others during meals or in the common room. But he had never really made a friend on the ward. Most of the children either hadn't stayed very long or they had been all funny and confused or obsessed with something stupid like not-eating or counting, or they had only talked about dying. This had frightened Harry. Why would anyone want to die? It didn't make sense!

His musings were interrupted by the bell that announced the end of the lesson.

"OK, your homework is to read and summarise chapter 2 of your textbook, and everyone who hasn't managed the spell yet keeps practising!" Flitwick explained, before he shooed them out of his classroom.

"Are you coming, mate?" Ron asked. "Don't want to lose the others, McGonagall will be _mad _if we are late for transfiguration!"

Yeah, perhaps Ron was his friend, Harry thought, while he was hurrying down the corridor to keep pace with Ron.

###

Unbeknownst to Harry, Ron kept casting him worried glances. Why was Harry moving so slow and funny? Ron had never seen anyone walking so rigid and stiff! It almost seemed as if Harry couldn't move freely but were under some kind of spell. Ron had seen Bill hexing Fred after one of the twin's more nasty pranks. Fred had become stiff as a board and had been fallen over, unable to move until their mother had released him. It had almost been like Harry was moving now, only that Fred hadn't been able to move at all. Perhaps someone had tried to hex Harry and botched it up?  
Of course, he could just ask Harry, but what if he hadn't been hexed but just couldn't move any different? Ron was quite sure that it would upset the other boy if he realized that someone had noticed his clumsy movements. After all, no one liked having his weaknesses pointed out. But then, Ron was well aware that he wasn't the only one who had noticed Harry's rigidity and clumsiness. Two of their fellow Gryffindors – Dean and Seamus – had already started whispering about Harry. So as a friend – they were friends, weren't they? - wouldn't it be prudent to tell Harry that others were whispering about him (and had even started pointing at him) because of his funny movements? Perhaps he could coach Harry to walk differently! The thought that he, Ron Weasley, average in everything, might be able to help the strong and famous Harry _Potter _with something – even if it was only walking – exhilarated him.

* * *

When they arrived at the transfiguration-classroom, Professor McGonagall was nowhere in sight, only a tabby cat was sitting on her desk. Harry remained standing in the doorway and cast wary glances at the cat – something wasn't right with it. He couldn't explain what exactly made him uneasy, but he decided it would be better to stay as far away from the beast as possible. And although he normally sat in the front of the classroom, next to the door – his teachers in primary school hadn't allowed him to sit in the back after the demon's first attempt to hurl him out of the window – he headed to the last empty table in the back row. Ron, who had started poking him after he hadn't entered the classroom right away, followed him straight.

When the bell rang, the talking died down, but when no professor came into the classroom, the kids decided that it would be safe to chatter about the exciting charms-lesson they just had. Everyone, except Neville and Harry, had managed to levitate his or her feather at least for a few seconds. Perhaps it was fortunate that Harry had difficulties to pay attention to everything that was going on, because he didn't notice a blond boy from Slytherin, the house the Gryffindor's were partnered with for transfiguration, jeering at him after overhearing his classmates talking about the boy-who-lived being unable to perform a simple levitating-charm.

Suddenly, the cat that had been sitting on the desk in front of the blackboard, seemingly observing the students, jumped up and transformed into their missing professor, who landed gracefully on the ground.

As soon as Harry saw the cat jump and it became somehow bigger, he jumped up, too, yelped and hid under the table.

The students had been quietened instantly by the sudden appearance of their professor. After a second of shocked silence some of them started clapping and a girl from Gryffindor exclaimed "Awesome, Professor!".  
Ron, however, who had intended to see what Harry was thinking about their professor being an _animagus –_ Ron had only ever heard of wizards and witches that could become an animal willingly, but never, ever met one – was alarmed when all what he saw was an empty chair and a few strand of messy dark hair looking out from under the table.

"Harry?" He inquired, diving under the table, too. All thoughts that the other boy might have dropped something and had missed the fantastic display of magic were dispelled when he saw Harry rocking backwards and forwards, hands covering his eyes, mumbling incomprehensible words.  
"Uh, Harry? What's the matter? Don't you want to come up again?" He asked, uncertainly. When he received no response, not even an acknowledgement that Harry had heard him, he straightened up in order to call for the professor – surely she would know what to do – but was prevented from doing so by banging his head against the table-edge.

"OOOWW!" He cried out.

"Mr Weasley, what is the meaning of this?" Professor McGonagall asked, just as the right side of the classroom – the side were the Slytherins sat – started to giggle.

"Harry, Professor McGonagall! He is hiding under the table!" Ron scowled in the direction of the giggling. Stupid evil snakes!

"Mr Potter? Hiding under the table? Is this some kind of prank?" Minerva McGonagall was annoyed. This hadn't gone quite as planed. Normally, the first-years were excited after seeing their professor transform from cat to human, and the rest of the lesson continued quite smoothly as the children were eager to learn how to do this for themselves. Of course, the initial enthusiasm diminished quickly when they learned that it would be a very long time until they could even _think_ about becoming animagi, but usually this didn't happen until at least the second or third lesson of the school-year.

"Eh, no, Professor. I mean yes... ehr, he is hiding under the table, yes, but I don't think it's a prank. I think perhaps he was startled by your transformation..."

_Startled? _Minerva had never, _never _met a child that had been frightened by her little show, not even a muggle-born! She approached the table. "Mr Potter, if you would please sit on your chair like everyone else. There is no need to be worried, that was merely a display of very advanced magic-" well, so much for her nice little plot to get the children to pay attention, "you won't be required to do the same until much, much later."  
When this didn't work, she bend over to look at the boy and was surprised when she saw Harry rocking himself. What was the matter with the boy? First this mecin-stuff, then this... could there be something wrong with him? Perhaps living with the muggles had affected him more than she had originally thought. But then, there were many muggle-borns at Hogwarts, and no one had ever hidden under a table, well, at least Minerva didn't know about anyone.

But this wasn't the time to dwell on what might be wrong with the boy-who-lived. No, this had to wait until later, until she could talk to Poppy again and to a certain old fool of a headmaster. 'Damn it Albus, if these muggles have done anything to Harry...' she thought, almost growling.

"Mr Potter? … Mr Potter, please pay attention." apparently, this wasn't working, the boy didn't even seem to hear her. "Mr Potter!... Oh my- Mr Weasley, could you please give Mr Potter a tap? It seems that he won't respond otherwise."

"Sure, professor!" Ron agreed, carefully touching the other boy's shoulder.

"NO NO NO!"

Ron hadn't been prepared for this reaction. "It's all right, mate!" He tried to sooth Harry, who had stopped rocking as soon as he had touched him and was now about to scramble into the corner of the room, directly behind Ron and Harry's desk. Apparently, he had forgotten that he was still under the table, though, and (like Ron's) his head collided with the edge.  
Ron, who had seen this coming, tried to warn him, but it was already too late. "Uh, mate, I'm sorry... you have been hiding under the table, 'member?"  
It was disconcerting that, instead of howling (the collision with the table had been quite hard), Harry stared at Ron in complete silence, first with a look of confusion which gradually changed into relief, though.

"Uh, mate, all right?" Ron felt stupid, who would be all right after hitting his head against a table? Harry, however, didn't seem to be bothered by the (second) lump on his head at all. "Eh, want to come up again? Professor McGonagall is waiting for you..." Ron continued. Why was Harry gazing at him like this? Completely at a loss of what to do, he reached out to help Harry up and was surprised when the boy actually took his hand, well, after he had eyed it suspiciously for two or three seconds.

###

Harry felt embarrassed. He had lost it in front of the whole class, only because their professor had showed them some awfully cool magic! Harry didn't understand what had happened. He had ended up under the table, yes, but he couldn't say why he had felt the need to hide there in the first place. It was only that every fibre of his body had screamed to run and hide when the cat – or had it been the professor? - had jumped from the table, apparently directly towards him. _This was it. Now they were going to get him, tear him apart. _The next thing he knew was Ron tapping him.

Just when he was about to sit down, trying very hard to ignore the staring and whispering and even the giggling, he noticed the shadow looming over his table and nearly scrambled back under the desk.

"Mr Potter... I'm sorry if my performance has frightened you, I wasn't aware of... well, I didn't know you would react quite so... vigorously. Now, do you think you can manage the rest of the lesson or do you need Madame Pomfrey to look at your head?"

"Eh, no, Professor, I'm all right! Honest!" He added, after receiving a doubtful look from the transfiguration-professor. These people were funny. They should send him to his cupboard for acting all crazy, not ask him whether he needed a doctor. But then, he didn't have a cupboard in this place. This place was confusing. It was so different from everything he had experienced with the Dursley's, but at the same time wasn't like the closed ward either! Harry didn't know how to handle people like the professor, the doctor-witch or Ron.

Thinking of Ron... Harry turned to his new friend, well, his ex-new friend now, only to be surprised when the other boy didn't look frightened or disgusted but only worried. He must not have realized what a freak Harry was. Because Harry didn't doubt it a second that he would stop being his friend as soon as he learned the truth about Harry. Ron might take medicine, too – at least he had said so during the train-ride – but Harry wasn't fooled. Ron wasn't nearly as freaky and crazy as Harry was!

"All right now, mate?" Ron asked, no hint of mockery in his tone.

"Eh, yes. I'm sorry..."

"No problem, mate!"

Now he was even smiling at Harry. Imagine, _smiling _at _Harry _after the latter had just proved his madness!

###

The rest of the lesson passed without further interruption, and Harry was relieved to see that this time he and the other boy from Gryffindor weren't the only ones that didn't manage to turn the matchstick into a needle. Of course, some people succeeded, but perhaps Harry wouldn't be the dumbest one in this class.  
He was worried, though, because he really, really didn't understand how waving a stick would help him to change one thing into another! He liked his stick, yes, though he kept forgetting that these people called it wand, not stick. And apparently, they held the opinion that with a wand, one could do magic.

But Harry couldn't grasp the concept of it.

Holding his sti- wand made him feel good, though. It helped his constant headache and he was more alert than usual. Additionally, it seemed like the demon got weaker when he touched his stick, and Harry had already thought about hiding the wand under his clothes so that it would touch his bare skin all the time. It would be nice not to be bothered by the demon any more, or at least not constantly. Perhaps he should write Dr Green about his stick? The doctor used to ask him every time he visited him whether or not the demon was talking, and he had said that all the medicine was supposed to help Harry fight against the demon.

Oh. Maybe THIS was the reason the doctor-witch didn't want him to take his medicine any more? Because they used sticks instead of medicine here? But Dr Green – and his Aunt and Uncle – had told him he wasn't supposed to stop taking his pills, and he most certainly wasn't supposed to disobey them either. Hmm... he would need to write his relatives and Dr Green and tell them about the stick. Or should he just speak to the doctor-witch?

But if these sticks helped against demons, why hadn't the people on the ward used them? It was much more comfortable to hold a stick than to take medicine that made you all sleepy and itchy and stiff and twitchy. And Dr Green was a specialist. Harry had been told so many times, Dr Green was a specialist for people like him, for people who were mentally ill like Harry. But Dr Green had never considered that touching sticks instead of swallowing medicine might help Harry. So maybe sticks and medicine weren't the same after all? He didn't understand it. Why couldn't everything be nice and easy? He really, really wanted to sleep now. It was so tiresome to think about all this confusing stuff.

But it was lunchtime now and he wouldn't be able to sleep in the Great Hall with all the noise and the people.

* * *

When Ron and Harry entered the Great Hall, it was already very crowded and noisy. Ron cast a nervous glance at his friend – would Harry be OK with all these people after what had happened during transfiguration? - and was pleased to see that the other boy looked rather calm. Well, perhaps "calm" wasn't the right word, he had a faraway look on his face but didn't seem to be bothered by the noise or the people, despite many of them looking and pointing at the two of them.

They approached the Gryffindor-table and sat down next to the other first-years. Ron was delighted to see all the food – classes had been very taxing and Ron hadn't had the chance to eat very much during breakfast, due to being late because of Harry. Not that he blamed his friend, but he was glad that the house elves working at Hogwarts cooked almost as well as his mother, otherwise he would be starving!

Harry, however, wasn't interested in food but only in whether or not the doctor-witch stuck to her promise that he would get his medicine at lunchtime. On the ward, one of the nurses had handed out the pills, but he supposed it would be different here, since there were hundreds of children and it would last forever if the doctor-witch or the teachers handed out the medicine to each child individually. He had expected that he would find his medicine next to his plate, though, and was alarmed when Ron sat down near the other first-year boys from Gryffindor. There wasn't any medicine at the plate next to Ron's. Perhaps the other kids didn't get medicine at lunchtime and the doctor-witch had thought Harry would sit somewhere else?

"Where are you going, mate?" Ron called when he noticed that Harry went on, starring intently at the table, instead of sitting down next to him.

"' need to find my medicine..." Harry answered, distractedly. There were so many plates and knives and forks and dishes with different kinds of foot on the table, it was hard to make out the pills.

"Uh... but don't you want to sit next to me?" Ron asked, a little bit hurt.

"I'm coming. Yes. But first I need to find my medicine. I'm right back, promise!" But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't find his pills. He couldn't find _any_ pills, for that matter, which he thought rather odd. Was he really the _only _one that got medicine at lunchtime?

Harry reached the end of the table, went to the other side and continued his search. The other kids were giving him strange glances, and some seemed to ask him questions, too. He couldn't listen, though, he had to focus very hard on not getting distracted by all the other stuff sitting on the table. Why couldn't they set the table more tidily? After approximately 5 minutes, he reached the other end, facing the teachers-table, and got increasingly agitated. Where was his medicine?! The doctor-witch had promised!

"Mr Potter, do you have difficulties finding a chair up to your standards?" Asked an icy voice directly behind Harry. The boy, however, was to absorbed in sorting out knives and plates and spoons and dishes and hopefully pills that he neither noticed the tall, dark professor behind him nor that this very professor was speaking to him in a voice that caused most Gryffindors to reconsider the whole bravery-matter.

"Mr Potter. If you would deign to give me your attention..." The potion-master's voice was almost a hiss by now, and the sixth-years Harry was passing right now were giving him horrified looks. This boy _might_ be the boy-who-lived, but considering Snape's voice this would soon be history. Not even Harry Potter could survive Snape in full... well, full Snape-mode. And still, the little boy gave no sign of intending to stop his journey around the table a. If it had been any other professor, the sight of a first-year walking slowly down the Gryffindor-table, closely followed by a teacher (almost foaming at being ignored) would have been hilarious. But the professor being Snape even caused the teachers-table to fall silent. A few Gryffindors looked up, hoping to find their head of house or even the headmaster, but both were absent from the Great Hall. There would be no one to rescue Harry Potter from his upcoming doom.

"MR POTTER!" The potion master had enough. How _dare_ the little urchin not only to ignore him but to ridicule him, Severus Snape, in front of the whole students-body of Hogwarts?!

When he had noticed Potter walking slowly down the table, he had first thought that the boy wanted to draw attention to himself, perhaps making it clear that the famous boy-who-lived wouldn't sit on _any _chair but only on the very best. Intending to teach the brat a lesson (and only a little(!) bit curious about a boy that was stuffed to the brim with weird muggle-medication) he had abandoned his lunch and approached the son of his nemesis. Only to be completely ignored by the big-headed brat! This audacity!

"POTTER!" He bellowed, simultaneously grabbing the boy's collar, intending to shake some sense into him. However, it never came to that.

###

When Harry, completely oblivious to anything except the quest for his pills, felt someone taking him by the scruff of his neck he reacted instinctively. He had long since learned that fighting never prevented them from catching him, carrying him to the bed, holding him down and tying him up. This didn't stop him from trying, though. Well, at least if his current medicine didn't render him unable to process things quickly enough. Sometimes, everything happened so fast that he was already tied down when he understood what was going on.  
This time, however, he didn't feel as if his head was stuffed with mud. Ducking away, he almost managed to escape his predator, only to find himself face to bum with some Hogwarts-students. He couldn't tell which house they were, the bottom of Hogwarts-robes bearing no house-colours, not that it mattered anyway.

"Oh no, Mr Potter!" Snape was seething. What was this brat thinking?! Never, in all his time as a teacher, had any child actually tried to flee. Feeble excuses, trying to worm tone out of sticky situations, even purposefully "forgetting" detentions, yes, but outright escape?

Harry briefly startled. Since when did the nurses – or the doctors – addressed him by his last name? But he had no time to think about this strange new development. He had to fight. "LEAVE ME ALONE!" He yelled, and tried to kick the black-clothed nurse

"POTTER! CALM DOWN THIS INSTANT!"

"NOOOOOOOO!"

"Are you trying to make a fool of yourself, acting like a three-years old in front of the entire students-body?" 'And letting me look like a child abuser?' Snape silently added. He didn't want to ridicule the brat in front of the entire school. Well, technically it was the child himself that made himself look ridiculous, but Snape couldn't help to feel bad about his part in the whole mess. Oh, he'd love to get revenge for everything the brat's father and his lackeys had done to him during their own school-days, but while vindictive, Snape wasn't that... cruel. Deducting points, making the boy loath potion-classes or sarcastic remarks were one thing, but he wouldn't resort to the same means as the Marauders, making a fool of the boy in front of all the other students.

"NOO- what?" Harry stopped howling and squirming. Something wasn't right. This wasn't the usual procedure. What was going on?

"Mr Potter, you _will _accompany me _this instant." _Snape muttered through gritted teeth. He had to get the boy out of the Great Hall, away from the starring students.

"But- what?" Harry didn't understand. No. This wasn't right. What- eh... no. _Where was he? _This wasn't the ward. And the man holding him wasn't a nurse. And all the other children. They wouldn't fit on the ward, not even if they would get bunk beds.

Oh. Hogwarts. Oh no. He was at Hogwarts, his new school! And he had just lost it in front of everyone else! Shit! Harry gulped. What would they do with him? The stare of the nur- teacher holding his arm unnerved him. Would they decide he was to crazy for going to school again? Would they send him back to hospital? Or would they just give him additional medicine like Aunt Petunia did when he lost it at Privet Drive? Medicine. Wait. This was what he had been searching for. But he had never found it, something had distracted him. The teacher, perhaps? Or had he just tried to help him looking for his pills? Or had he even wanted to _give _Harry his medicine? Perhaps the doctor-witch had send him?

"Uh, Sir... I'm sorry... uh, do you have my medicine?"

Briefly, Snape thought that he must made a very good impression of a fish. This kid didn't stop to surprise him. What was going on in his head? From screaming and fighting and acting as if the Dark Lord himself was trying to murder him to being (almost) polite and calm in little more than thirty seconds! And now he even asked for that medicine which was safely locked away in Poppy's office. The child couldn't mean to take it voluntarily, could he?

"Potter, what do you mean whether I have your medicine?" He snapped.

"Uh, you know, my medicine. I'm supposed to take my pills regularly, you see, and the doctor-witch, she promised I would get them with lunch, but they aren't here. I have searched all the table, it's rather difficult, you know, with all that stuff, but I've been really careful and I'm sure I haven't overlooked anything... uhm, I haven't searched this part yet, so perhaps..." And he looked almost longingly at the few metres of empty table behind Snape.  
The potion-master noticed the newest Weasley -Ronald, wasn't it? - sitting near that part of Gryffindor-table Potter stared at, his expression a mixture of confusion and concern. Apparently, he couldn't decided whether he had to rescue the boy-who-lived from the head of the snakes or not.

"Come with me!" Snape ordered. He had to get the brat somewhere where he could talk to him without nosy students trying to overhear them. It wouldn't do to have rumours about the boy-who-lived being... well, different flying around. But perhaps this was exactly what the little pest tried to achieve? Behaving all strange in order to get attention? Perhaps he was indeed different from James Potter... perhaps this Potter had set on being the centre of attention by playing the role of the poor, lonely orphan? Or the brave and tough survivor of an atrocious childhood?  
Snape decided that whatever it was that made the boy act the way he did, it didn't matter right now. He took Harry by his shoulder and lead him out of the Great Hall, ignoring the stares and the feeble attempts of Weasley to call him back. One of the more menacing glares was enough to make even the sixth-year prefect from Gryffindor cower away. Surprisingly, Potter himself seemed to be the only one who didn't have any objections against following Hogwart's most feared professor away from the safety of the Great Hall to an empty classroom on the other side of the Entrance Hall. On the contrary, it wasn't even necessary to exert particular pressure on the boy's shoulders to keep him going. It was almost as if he voluntarily went with Snape. But this couldn't be. No self-respecting Potter would ever accompany the greasy git by choice.

"Now, Mr Potter," Snape addresses the boy after he had made sure that the door was closed and a Muffliato was in place, preventing anyone from eavesdropping. "Would you care to explain your earlier behaviour?"

"Can I get my medicine now?" Harry asked. After all, this was the reason the teacher had led him out of the Great Hall in the first place, hadn't it? Harry wasn't stupid, the doctor-witch might as well have told him that he was supposed to go to this room in order to get his pills, it would have saved him from searching the whole table! But now the teacher was just looking at him strangely and asked weird question instead of giving him his medicine and a glass of water, waiting until he had taken the pills and making him open his mouth to show that he had indeed swallowed the drugs.

"No-"

"WHAT? BUT I NEED THEM!"

"SHUT UP, POTTER!" Snape wouldn't let a Potter shout at him. "You will explain what just transpired in the Great Hall. And if you have answered my question satisfactorily, you _might _get your medicine!" He wasn't head of Slytherin for nothing.

"Uhm..." Harry swallowed. It didn't look as if he had a choice. But this was so weird! Years and years they had practically forced him to take his medicine, and now when he actually wanted to take it he didn't get it! Well, he didn't really _wanted_ to take the medicine, but he knew that if he didn't obey to his Aunt's (and Dr Green's) orders, he would be in very big trouble. Not to mention that the teachers surely would send him to hospital again if he started to become crazy again. Harry knew that this was bound to happen if he didn't take the pills. They had explained it to him after he had complained about having to take stuff that made him feel all woozy and stiff and sick.  
Perhaps this was some kind of test? Perhaps the teachers – or the teachers on behalf of Dr Green? Or his Aunt? - wanted to test whether Harry would obey orders? Obedience was important, after all. Only obedient children were allowed to leave the ward. Only that he wasn't on the ward, was he?

"I don't have time until dinner, Potter!"

Uh shit. He had completely forgotten that he was supposed to retell what he had done. Perhaps the teacher wanted to test how well he remembered things? Or whether he could concentrate? "Well, uh, I have searched for my medicine. Because the doctor-witch said I would get it when I would have lunch. Ron – he's my friend, I think, you know, I never had a friend before – apart from Hedwig, of course, but I have only got to know her during the summer. There were a few children that talked to me, mostly on the ward though, well, I haven't really been in school very much after all, and then there was Dudley – my cousin – uh eh... yeah, Ron sat down and I didn't see the pills so I thought that perhaps she had put them somewhere else. She couldn't know where I would sit, couldn't she? I tried really, really hard, but the table- there was so much stuff and it was really hard to make out everything, so perhaps I have overlooked them after all. I don't know. There were sitting other children, too... you don't think one of them accidentally took my medicine, do you?" Harry asked, horrified. He hadn't thought of this before.

Snape listened, flabbergasted. What was the child talking about?! "Potter, stop it! What do you mean, the "doctor-witch" told you you would get your medicine during lunch? And why do you _need_ it in the first place? And- well, answer my questions!"  
He had intended to ask why the boy hadn't been in school very often. Or what "wards" he was talking about. The blood-wards? Or why he didn't have friends. Not that it mattered to him, no, it was simply, the boy-who-lived was important. And he was already far more... unusual than he was supposed to be. Having no friends... that was uncomfortably close to Severus' own youth. And he could already see the headlines if the Daily Prophet found out that the saviour of the wizarding world wasn't at all what people had expected him to be. They had already tried to attribute dark powers to the boy shortly after the Dark Lord vanished. If it hadn't been for Dumbledore... And, of course, it would prevent Snape from hating Potter properly, and that just wasn't and option.

"Uh... Professor McGonagall – she's my head of house – took me to a doctor-witch before classes started. Because I needed to give her my medicine. My Aunt and Dr Green have told me so! Uhm, and she told me I would get it during lunch but-"

"Yes, Potter, you have already said this. But why do you _need_ medicine in the first place?"

"Because I get really crazy and difficult if I don't take it! My Aunt and Uncle won't have me in the house without me taking my pills. And the demon gets more power, too! I don't like this. He tries to hurt me, and then Dr Green makes me stay on the ward again-"

"What do you mean, getting crazy and what demon?" Snape interrupted the child again. He hadn't the patience to listen to the boy rambling nonsense.

"Uh, crazy like... well, mad. Dr Green says I'm 'entally ill. But my relatives only call it crazy. And the demon... uhm, he's kind of in my head... and hurts..." Harry didn't like to talk about all of this, not at all. "Uh, can I get it now? I- uhm, well, perhaps... I mean, it would be really great if I could have some lunch before classes start again..."

Snape tried to make sense of what he had just heard. Apparently, Potter had taken medicine regularly because his relatives – or had it been this ominous doctor? - considered him... unbalanced. But this didn't make sense. Petunia knew about magic. And there wasn't anything else that was different about the boy, was there? He was just as annoying, trouble-seeking and strong-willed as the average Gryffindor, perhaps more big-headed, but certainly not ill.  
But then... there was undoubtedly something wrong with Potter's coordination and his general movements. If Severus hadn't known better, he would have sworn the boy was under an Imperius or something similar dark. Moving like a marionette, glassy eyes, these typical twitches the victim showed if it tried to fight the curse... but it couldn't be. The boy hadn't had contact to any wizard since _that _Halloween. Maybe there was something wrong with the boy's brain?  
Severus almost smirked, this was a Potter, of course there was something wrong with his brain. Well, he would need to do some research soon, very soon. This needed to be sorted out, maybe the boy required a potion, or there were many spells that were applied when people had suffered a head injury... it was strange, though, that Albus hadn't mentioned anything about his precious boy-who-lived needed medical treatment. Or that he hadn't seen to the boy being sent to St Mungo's when the initial injury – or illness? - occurred. Surely the healers would have sorted this out in mere seconds. But no, leaving it to the teachers – to Snape! - to deal with the mess. Manipulative old coot!

"Uh, Sir?"

Snape snapped out of his thoughts. Damn, the brat was still here! "Mr Potter, you may return to the Great Hall. I will speak with Madame Pomfrey about everything." And he turned to leave as well. However, just when he had reached the door, the boy started to scream. Again.

"I HAVE TO TAKE MY MEDICINE! YOU CAN'T DO THIS! I NEED IT IF I DON'T GET IT THE DEMON WILL SURELY KILL ME! YOU STUPID!" Harry screamed and cried. This was so wrong, everything was wrong, nothing made sense any more! He had to obey his Aunt and Uncle and Dr Green but the new teachers and the new doctor just wouldn't let him and in the end it would have been him, again, that would be punished. He had rarely felt as helpless as he was feeling now. With Dr Green, he had at least known what he was supposed to do, he had known the rules. But here? Everything was wrong. He really wished he could have stayed with his relatives. Sure, he wouldn't have become friends with Ron, but everything would have been much easier, less confusing, less terrifying...

Snape, completely frustrated by now, decided it was high time to get rid of the boy. "Potter, come with me! Now!" He didn't wait for the boy to obey but just grabbed his arm and dragged him towards the infirmary. Thankfully, most of the students were still in the Great Hall and didn't witnessed a crying, screaming Potter being pulled through the corridors by Snape.

* * *

To say Madame Pomfrey was surprised when the potion master entered the hospital wing, a crying child in tow, was an understatement.

"Severus Snape! What it the meaning of this?!"

"Potter! He insists on getting his blasted medicine! Perhaps _you _can convince him that he isn't to take it until we have sorted out what is going on? _Why _have you told him he would get it when having lunch?!"

"I haven't...oh... Mr Potter? Ehm, you can't take this... this medicine. I'm sorry you misunderstood me but-"

"NO NO NO I HAVE TO TAKE IT! I HAAAAAVEE TO YOU... YOU..."

Severus huffed. Why hadn't he thought of this sooner? While Poppy tried to calm down the distraught child, he went into the medi-witche's office, made sure the boy wasn't paying attention to him and conjured several small, white pastilles.

"Mr Potter, here is your medicine, kindly take it at once." He shot a glare towards the medi-witch who was about to protest.

A few minutes later, a confused and still-angry but also relieved Harry left the infirmary and the potion master explained his little trick to Madame Pomfrey.

"Hmpf. I don't think it is wise to betray the poor child in such a way..."

"Do you have a better idea?" Snape snapped. He thought his plan to give the boy glucose-pastilles until they could figure out what was the matter with him rather brilliant.

"Well, no... no. I suppose it makes sense, yes... well, at least there isn't anything seriously wrong with him, it would have shown in the scan I cast in the morning... just make sure not to delay your research, do you? If I can be of any help..."

* * *

**Next chapter: Three angry staff-members confront a certain headmaster, Harry struggles with classes and another collision between Harry and Snape!  
**


	14. Squibs and muggleborn can't detect demon

_I don't own Harry Potter_

_To answer a few questions that have come up, this story will NOT be slash but Severus and Harry will have a mentor/guardian relationship. I don't think I'll include any romantic relationship for that matter, I may be a bit old-fashioned but I think 11-years-old children are, well, children.  
Another thing, Harry has certainly developed some issues due to everything he has experienced so far, perhaps he even is mentally ill (he might have a post-traumatic stress disorder, given that he's obviously traumatized by being restrained to a bed), but the symptoms the psychiatrist considered ill aren't indications of any mental illness.  
In my opinion, Snape hasn't really bothered to learn what exactly happened to Harry after his parents had been killed, so I though he didn't know whether Albus has checked on him or had him examined by a healer.  
About scanning-spells, I don't really like it when healers have just to cast one spell and get a complete list of everything that is and had ever been wrong with the person in question, so I decided to make healing a more complicated profession than it seems to be in most other fics._

* * *

**Chapter 14 - Squibs and muggleborn can't detect demons  
**

.

Albus Dumbledore sighed. It was only the second evening of the new term and he had already been approached by three of his teachers – well, two teachers and the medi-witch – about having an urgent meeting regarding some new first-years. His staff hadn't been very forthcoming neither about the identity of the first-years in question nor the specific concerns they had. This worried the headmaster... simple cases of homesickness, dissatisfaction about what house someone or someone's friend had been sorted into or applications for an exception of the rule concerning first-years and brooms were normally dealt with by the heads of houses themselves. And there had been no hints from Severus that one of the new Slytherins that came from Death Eater households had been subjected to... unorthodox methods of punishments either. And what could Poppy possibly have to discuss with him already? The first flying-lesson wouldn't be until Wednesday!

Well, he supposed he would find out soon enough, as Minerva was just entering his office and Poppy and Severus were following suit.

"Ah, good evening Minerva, Poppy, Severus... I trust there wasn't any major difficulty in settling in the students?"

Minerva snorted. "I can tell you there _was_, Albus Dumbledore! You may have noticed that it hasn't happened since the war was in full force that we had to meet on the first evening of classes!?" The transfiguration-professor was rather angry at the twinkling old man sitting in his throne-like chair. Typically for him not to tell the staff anything about Harry Potter in advance! It wasn't that nobody had asked, no. Minerva herself had demanded to know whether there was anything about the boy-who-lived she, as his likeliest head of house, or any of the other teachers needed to know. But the old man had only twinkled at her and said that he didn't expect any difficulties and that Harry should be treated just like any other first-year.

"Perhaps you would enlighten me on which students we are speaking about? And maybe it would be wise if we dealt with one after another instead of all three of them at once...?" Maybe he shouldn't have told each of his employees to meet him at 8 o'clock. The three of them could be somehow... intimidating, even to Albus Dumbledore himself.

"Three of them? We are here to talk about Harry Potter! There aren't any other students that seemed to be of the opinion that they had to swallow some vile poisons each day!"

"Harry...? But there is nothing wrong with the boy, is there? And Severus...?" Why would the potion-master be involved in anything concerning the new Gryffindor? Hadn't it been him who had made snarky comments about "the spoilt brat" every time Minerva had addressed their future student during meetings over the summer? And the medi-witch...? Perhaps the boy had fallen ill? It would be unfortunate for him to miss the first days of classes, yes, but surely it wasn't a reason for a staff meeting, and even less for Severus being involved?  
Albus stared at his potion-master, trying to get a hint about what was going on. However, the mental shields of his youngest staff-member were as impenetrable as ever. OK, apparently there was no other way to find out then to listen to the three of them, however angry they may be. He would just make sure to be ready to dodge any hexes Minerva in particular was likely to throw at him when looking as angry as she looked now.

"Perhaps you would like to take a seat...?" He gestured at the purple-and-yellow armchairs in front of his desk.

"No, Albus, I don't want to sit down and I certainly don't want a lemon drop! But you WILL explain how it comes that _Harry Potter _apparently took some kind of muggle-poisons while living with his relatives-"

"And I would like to now," Severus interrupted Minerva, before the latter one could start one of her endlessly rants, "why your precious boy-who-lived seems to be under some strange sort of restraining- or compulsion spell... and whether you have been aware of this."

"Now... what?!" Albus looked towards Poppy, bewildered.

"Yes, Albus, these," she stepped forward and put a few of the blister packs Harry had given her earlier on the table, "are only a few of the pills the boy thinks he is supposed to take. If you would bother visiting my office you would see a pile of pills that would be enough to sedate the whole school, including Hagrid _and_ his three-headed monster!"

"But Harry isn't ill, is he?" The headmaster blurted out, looking worried. "Hagrid has told me the boy was fine when he visited him on his birthday to do accompany him to Diagon Alley..."

"Do you really want us to believe that you have not known what was going on with Harry while he lived with those muggles? I TOLD you, Albus, I told you that you shouldn't leave him with these people!"

"Headmaster, you mentioned repeatedly that you had installed some sort of guard that would watch the Potter-child for any... inconsistencies that might occur. Now, it's a bit... difficult believe that you don't know anything about the state of the boy, you must admit." Severus said, while carefully watching whether there was any sign that Dumbledore was lying. It would not be the first time the headmaster would purposefully overlook the safety and well-being of a person in favour of the 'greater good'.

"Yes, of course I set up a guard! I wouldn't leave the little boy with his relatives only relying on the blood-wards! Mind you, these are the best protection possible, of course, but you can never be careful enough... but she never told me anything! I mean, I haven't been in touch with her for quite some time, but she knows how to contact me if anything happens, and she was a loyal order member, she would have told me if Harry had been in danger or... something." Albus broke of. He couldn't really remember the last time he had spoken to Arabella Figg. During the first few month, he had firecalled her regularly, but everything seemed to be fine, there had been no signs of Death Eater who searched for the boy or any other threats. And then, well, he had been rather busy, all the death eater trials, he simply had told her to contact him if anything unusual happened.  
After he hadn't heard from Mrs Figg for almost a year, he had visited her for tea one evening, but everything had been fine! She had told him that she hadn't seen Harry very often, apparently Petunia was still a bit worried that the little boy might be in danger if he left the house. He had briefly considered writing her again to assure her that it was all right for Harry to leave the house, that the blood-wards would remain active as long as he could call Privet Drive his home. But then, he had known all along that Lily's sister wasn't overly fond of wizards, and he didn't want to disturb the peace of the young family even further. And surely it couldn't hurt if she protected the boy a bit more than strictly necessary, could it? On the contrary, Dumbledore had been rather glad that Petunia apparently took her duty seriously and didn't project her dislike for magic on her nephew.

He had visited Mrs Figg again after a few years, and had flooed her at least once a every two years, but she had never mentioned any problems . OK, there _had _been the incident when Harry had been brought to hospital and had to stay for quite some time, but when Dumbledore's watchdog had casually asked Mrs Dursley whether the boy was all right she had been answered that it was nothing serious but that the doctors wanted to observe him because he had continuously complained about headaches. Then... well, Dumbledore had to admit that he hadn't been in touch with the only squib of the Order of the Phoenix very regularly during the last two years, after all, the boy would soon come to Hogwarts anyway and there really wasn't any need to worry, was there? Briefly, he thought about the only firecall he had ever received by Arabella, but every boy would some times have a growth spurt and become skinny as a result. The fact that he hadn't reacted to the squibs repeated attempts to invite him to tea meant only that Harry was a stubborn little boy who perhaps lacked of manners.

Well, but perhaps he, and Arabella, had indeed overlooked something? Otherwise, his three colleagues wouldn't standing in front of his desk glaring daggers at him, would they?

"So, you are sure your guard told you everything that was going on? That he didn't leave out some very important facts?"

"Well, yes, Arabella-"

"You left it to _Arabella Figg_ to look after _Harry Potter_?!" Professor McGonagall was livid. "You could as well have set Cornelius Fudge up as a guard, what were you thinking you meddling old coot?!" Everyone present knew what Minerva thought about the current Minister of Magic and that comparing someone to the bowler-wearing man was, for her, the worst insult possible.

"But Minerva, you know Araballa and she-"

Again, the headmaster was interrupted by his deputy. "That exactly is the problem, Albus! I _know _her, and she can't even tell cats and kneazles apart! She wouldn't have noticed something was wrong if Harry had been brought to hospital half-dead and the muggle-aurors would have investigated the matter! Hell, she asked Severus about where he had gotten his interesting tattoo during one of the last order-meetings!"

"OK, well, but she's the only squib I know and..., well, perhaps you could tell me what exactly the boy has done that the three of you are nearly destroying my office?" Albus asked, noticing that some of his more delicate instruments had started to tremble.

"It isn't something he has done, headmaster," the medi-witch, who had put her hand on the shoulder of one of her oldest friends in order to sooth the transfiguration-professor (who seemed to be ready to make an exception to her no-dark-curses rule just now), said. "The boy has taken very strong medicine for a very long time. Minerva brought him to my office before classes started. He had a nasty bump on his forehead, but didn't even seemed to be aware of it. He handed over muggle-medication I have never heard of before, well, apart from these pills," she indicated towards the blister packs still lying on the desk, "and this is a very strong sedative. I have never heard of a child who had to take it before, it is only prescribed in sever cases of aggression, or violent behaviour... or when a person is at risk of harming himself..."

"Wait, I wouldn't go this far," the potion-professor stated, "Potter has already proved himself rather unpredictable and even aggressive, even if he hasn't – yet – shown a tendency to attack people. The way he shouted at me while I was only trying to determine why he wasn't sitting down in the Great Hall like everybody else... well, and even if most of you don't really care of recent developments in the muggle world," here Snape raised his voice so that the headmaster, who had been about to argue that point, decided it would be the best to keep quiet, "_I_ have read several articles about new treatments for children with learning difficulties, hyperactive behaviour or problems to stay focused on one thing for more than two seconds. I don't see why Potter shouldn't be one of these children. He is the son of James Potter, after all!" He all but spat the last sentence.

"But Severus, you saw all that medicine yourself! Surely there must be something more seriously wrong with Harry than just weak concentration?"

"Perhaps... however, I wouldn't pass a judgement until we know more about the whole matter. Headmaster, you surely agree with us that this situation needs further investigation?"

"Yes, of course, Severus, it's no question..."

"Than you would surely be willing spend some money on some of the more complicated potions the hospital wing needs new supply of? After all, I will be busy researching on behalf of your precious saviour."

"Can't Poppy do the research?"

"Albus, I may be a medi-witch but I don't know half as much about muggle medicine and treatment of typical muggle-illnesses as Severus does. If you don't want to risk the boy's health you will do what Severus said!"

"But why would it risk the boy's health if the research would take a little bit longer?"

"Albus, are you completely dense? The boy has taken some unknown substances for maybe years, and we can't just keep dosing him with this stuff! But neither can we just continue to give him glucose-drops, after all, there _might_ be something wrong with him! Yes, the scan I cast on him didn't show any hints of an illness or injury, but you know very well that the basic scans can only show so much! And there has not yet been invented a scanning-spell that would just produce a list of every injury, disease and malady the patient in question ever had! So you _will _persuade the governors that these expenses are necessary!" Poppy began to feel as exasperated as Minerva looked. The headmaster might be a genius, but sometimes he could be very naïve.

"And as most of the research necessary will have to be done in the evenings and at the weekend, you certainly won't mind taking over my nightly patrols for at least the upcoming week, won't you, Albus?"

"I- all right, all right." Severus glare was enough to convince the headmaster that arguing would be a very bad idea. Well, it couldn't hurt to do a few of the patrols for himself, could it? Not with Fluffy and four houses of curious students in one castle.

* * *

Harry felt frustrated. No matter how hard he tried, the stupid feather just wouldn't float, or even quiver, for that matter. Even Neville had managed the charm about half an hour ago, and Ron could do it each and every time he tried. It seemed that Harry was the only one who wouldn't be able to show Professor Flitwick a successfully cast levitating-charm when they would have Charms again the following morning. The bushy-haired girl had tried to help him, but it seemed that Harry just couldn't get the hang of it.

Transfiguration was even worse. Surely, not everyone had managed to change the matchstick into a needle, but most Gryffindors had at least altered either the colour or the shape of the matchsticks Professor McGonagall had given them to practice with. Harry's matchstick, however, remained unchanged. And while he became increasingly desperate that he seemed to be pants in not only one but two subjects he couldn't help to feel somehow relieved, too. He couldn't be that freakish if he had trouble with doing freakish stuff, could he?

Well, at least in herbology he would do fine, Harry supposed. They had had their first lesson this afternoon, and it had been very reminiscent of all the gardening he had done at the Dursley's. And while Aunt Petunia had complained a lot that he was working too slow or sometimes overlooked weeds, Harry thought that he was rather good in caring for plants. He really liked plants. They were much easier to deal with then people. They didn't shout at you, they didn't try to hurt you, and, most importantly, they were predictable. If you forget watering a plant, it would wilt, and if you made sure that it got enough sunlight it would grow really fast. Plants were soo different from Uncle Vernon, whose rapid mood-swings and violent outburst were completely unpredictable, from the nurses on the ward who never left him alone but constantly supervised him whether he was going crazy again, and, of course, from the demon, who just hurt you whenever he felt like doing it.  
Yes, Harry really liked plants. And the professor who taught the subject was nice, too. She had even smiled at Harry and awarded him points when he been the first one who had repotted a funny-looking flower.

"Uhm, mate, perhaps you should stop practising for now? It's rather late and I don't think you'll manage the charm if you are tiered..." Ron interrupted the musings of his friends. He had observed Harry the whole time since he had managed the charm himself, and couldn't help worrying for him. Again. Ron knew that it wasn't unusual for pupils not to manage the levitating-charm during the first lesson, but he had never heard of anyone who hadn't been able to cast the charm successfully after several hours of practising. After all, this was the reason it was the first charm taught to first-years, it was almost impossible to botch! Well, at least if you pronounced it right. Ron had to admit that the bossy girl had – perhaps! - been right in her advice to stress the 'o' instead of the 'a'. Not that he would ever tell her this, of course!

"But Professor Flitwick- we have to show him that we have practised it!" Harry argued.

"Yeah, but I don't think he will be cross if you can't do it. I mean, we have _seen _you trying it almost the whole evening! And-"

"He is right, you know," Hermione Granger, who had already established her reputation as being the best in probably every class they had, interrupted the red-head sitting in the armchair next to the desk she – and several books - currently occupied. Ron and Harry exchanged a look. They hadn't noticed that the witch was paying attention to them. "Yes, it isn't that you will manage the charm if you have completely exhausted your magic, you know. No, better to wait until you can ask Professor Flitwick about what you are doing wrong. Perhaps you haven't grasped some of the basics about casting charms he told us before we started with levitating the feather? You might want to read the first five chapters of our textbook, they are really helpful and interesting, I'm sure you'll do much better if you know all the important concepts about charms in general!"

"Uhm, Hermione, I don't think reading the textbook will be much help..." Ron tried to argue.

"But Ronald, aren't you aware of how unusual it is for someone not to levitate the feather after hours and hours of practising? I mean, it is even mentioned in _'A Relatively Short Introduction to Charms' –_ I thought it would be a good idea to read some background material, since I'm muggleborn and all – it's just not normal for someone not to manage the charm! And if Harry doesn't manage this charm he will never be able to cope with the more advanced stuff, not to mention the OWLs! No, Harry," and she turned to the other boy who had listened in silence to the argument about the best course of action for him to finally do is first bit of magic; "I think you should read as much books as you can, and then speak to Professor Flitwick in the morning. Yes, I'm sure once you have really understood what you are doing wrong you won't have any problems. I can borrow you some of my books, if you want to... I have several texts about charms, and transfiguration, too, since you have yet to transform your matchstick!"

###

And so it was that Harry didn't get much sleep that night but rather tried to figure out how the different theories about what charm-casting entailed, what branches of charms there were and what area of one's magic one had to access in order to successfully cast a charm could help him with getting the floating-spell right. Around 3 o'clock in the morning he fell asleep nevertheless and the next morning, Ron had to call him at least for two minutes until he woke up.

"Sorry mate, it's time to get up if you don't want to miss breakfast!" The read-head said, lying on the floor next to Harry's bed in order to see the other boy, who had, again, slept under his bed.

"Oh. All right. ' coming." Harry crawled out from under his bed, stood up, only to loose his balance and fall down again.

"Uh, you all right?"

"Yes, 'm sorry, only a bit dizzy. Happens sometimes." Harry mumbled, trying hard to see his friend through all the black stars that were dancing in front of his eyes. He wasn't unfamiliar with getting dizzy when getting up in the morning, it was the medicine, it sometimes caused circulation problems, but it hadn't happened for quite some time now. Dr Green had explained this was because his body had become used to the medicine. It was strange that it happened again, now, he hadn't even taken additional pills the days before. Well, perhaps it was only because all the stuff that was happening, going to school again everything else, Harry thought, and shrugged it off.

"Hey Harry, say, why do you sleep _under _your bed?" One of the other boy's (Harry couldn't remember his name) asked. "I mean, it must be awfully uncomfortable and all!"

"I don't like beds." Harry replied. Why couldn't they just leave him alone? Hadn't they already asked the same question yesterday? But no, that boy had already left the dormitory when Ron had asked him exactly the same, Harry remembered.

"You don't like beds? But _why_? These beds are great! I have never slept in a bed this big and fancy!"

"I don't like them!" Harry said, tersely. He didn't want to discuss his sleeping habits with the boys!

"Ah well... perhaps they aren't good enough for the great Harry Potter?" The boy sneered.

"Just leave him alone! If he don't want to sleep in the bed it's not your problem, Finnigan!" Ron yelled. Couldn't the other see that Harry didn't want to talk about it?

Harry looked up, completely taken aback. Why was Ron defending him? This was... strange. But then, perhaps it was because they were friends? It seemed to have helped, though, because the boy – Finnigan – left, and the other two followed him after a few awkward moments. Harry stared at the door where the boys had just disappeared through and than smiled at Ron, briefly and unsure whether he was right and the other boy had actually wanted to help him or whether he had other, darker motives. Ron, however, seemed to be relieved when he saw Harry's smile and grinned back.

Five minutes later, the two boys left their dormitory in a rather good mood.

* * *

Harry's high-spirits, however, evaporated when Professor Flitwick asked him to perform the feather-floating charm. He tried, of course, but without real hope that he would succeed. And sure enough, the feather remained as motionless as it had all the other times he had pointed his sti- wand at it and exclaimed "Wingardium Leviosa".  
He almost didn't dare to look up. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw the same boy that had asked him why he wasn't sleeping in his bed like everyone else whispering something into his neighbour's ear, apparently snickering. Harry hoped they weren't making fun of him, but he didn't have much hope. After all, why shouldn't they? He was the only one who hadn't managed the charm. Perhaps he just didn't have magic, despite being a freak?

He was so immersed in his thoughts that he didn't notice the thoughtful glances the Professor was giving him.

Filius Flitwick was indeed worried. He had been teaching charms for almost forty years by now and had never encountered a student who hadn't been able to levitate the feather on the second day of classes. It didn't ease his mind that one of the other Gryffindor first-years, Hermione Granger, had come to see him before she left for lunch and told him that Harry may needed special instructions because although he had practised several hours during the previous evening, and apparently had even started to read some of the books the girl (who had only ended up in Gryffindor because the sorting hat must have been completely out of his mind, Filius was sure of this) had borrowed him, hadn't managed to get at least _some _reaction when casting the spell.

Perhaps he should speak to Minerva? She was the boy's head of house, after all, and if there was something wrong with his magic, she needed to know anyway. But what _could _possibly be wrong with Harry's magic that rendered him unable to perform a simple charm? Filius had never heard of anything that could cause something like this. Well, of course, if someone had completely exhausted his magic it was possible that something like this happened, but they would have noticed immediately if this had been the case as it would result in Harry sleeping constantly, unable to wake up.

Of course, if someone couldn't cast a charm one of the most obvious explanations was that the person didn't have any magic. However, this was _Harry Potter_. And not only had the boy survived the unsurvivable, his name had been in the book of future Hogwarts students since he had been born, and only magical children ever appeared in this book. Then, he could obviously see the castle and move around freely, another thing a muggle – or squib – would not be able to do, well, at least not without special charms in place.  
Yes, he would speak to Minerva when he saw the witch at lunch. That was, if he survived his next class, third-years Hufflepuff and Gryffindors that included Fred and George Weasley.

###

To Harry's enormous relief, his pills appeared next to his plate as soon as he sat down. Ignoring the pumpkin-juice, he reached for the water and swallowed the medicine, oblivious to the doubtful look Ron was giving him. He couldn't overhear the bushy-haired witch's – Hermione's - question, though.

"Why do you have to take medicine? Are you ill? And aren't there potions that could cure it? I have read about potions, you know, and it's incredible! Several diseases muggles can't do anything about can be cured by only one potion! Or healing-spell, for that matter, well, sometimes it's even necessary to combine these two, but wouldn't it be fantastic if wizards worked in muggle-hospitals? They could save so many life... well, of course I know it's not possible, not with the statue of secrecy and everything, but you, you could just go to Madame Pomfrey – it's the healer of Hogwarts, you know, like the nurses in muggel schools, I have read it in the information booklet all muggleborns got – well, you could just ask her whether there is a potion or spell, than you wouldn't have to take those pills anymore! What are they, anyway?"

"Uh..." Harry was slightly flabbergasted that someone could talk so much, "my doctor said I have to take the pills. Yes. And I've already told Madame Pomfrey that I need to take the pills."

"Really? But didn't she suggest a spell or potion? And did she even knew about muggle-medicine? I don't know, but sometimes it seems that wizards don't really bother to learn anything about the things muggles have achieved during the last decades! Imagine, knowing nothing about TVs or telephones! I wonder whether they actually know about vaccinations... But anyway, what kind of medicine is this? What illness do you have?"

"Uh, I don't know the names... are really funny-sounding names, and they keep changing my medicine, if it doesn't work or makes me feel too sick. They are against the demon..." Uh oh. Harry hadn't meant to say this. He didn't want his classmates know about the demon.

"What demon?" Hermione asked, blankly.

"Nothing. Don't want to- no, nothing. Just... please, I don't want to talk about it. Really, it's nothing important! - Ron?" And Harry, eager to change the topic of conversation, turned to the boy who had listened with rapt attention to their conversion, although he hadn't understood half of it. Perhaps he _should _take muggle-studies as an elective once he had reached third-year? Before Ron could properly comprehend anything that was going on, though, not to mention react to Harry's unasked question, Hermione interrupted.

"But why... what do you mean, demon? Do you mean like being possessed by devil or something like this? But-"

"JUST LEAVE ME ALONE! I DON'T WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT!" Harry yelled. He had enough. First the other boy teased him about sleeping under his bed, then he wasn't able to perform a single spell, no matter how easy it seemed to be each time he looked at Ron doing it, and then this girl just didn't stop asking questions he couldn't and didn't want to answer. It had been wrong to come here. He should have fought his Aunt harder. Perhaps he could phone Dr Green and convince him that he had to tell his Aunt that Harry couldn't stay at this school? But he had never seen a phone in this castle...  
Deciding that he wasn't really hungry anyway and feeling the urgent need to run, he jumped to his feet and ran to the doors that led out of the Great Hall.

"HARRY! Hey Harry, come back, it's lunch..." But Ron's call was futile, Harry didn't seem to care about lunch, and this was perhaps the most extraordinary thing Ron had discovered so far about the boy-who-lived. "Why couldn't you just leave him be? Now he won't get lunch and will starve because of you!" He snapped at Hermione, who was sitting on the opposite side of the table, agape.

* * *

Harry had just exited the Great Hall, making a sharp bend to the right in order to leave the castle when he collided with something solid. Or rather, someone solid.

"Potter! What do you think you're doing?! It's not allowed to run in the castle!"An angry potion-master snapped.

Severus had just been on his way to have lunch when suddenly he had almost been knocked of his feet by a tiny thing that had swooshed out of the Great Hall with a speed normally reserved for Quidditch-players. Only a quick grip to the wall had prevented him from falling over. When he looked at the thing that had run him over he was taken by surprise. He had expected it to be a house-elf that, for incomprehensible reasons, had chosen the human way of travelling, not the very first-year he had spent his entire morning thinking about. To be fair, Harry didn't seem to be much heavier than the average house-elf, though he was slightly taller.

"' sor'y pro'fsor!" the boy panted, obviously exhausted due to his mad dash. Nevertheless, he tried to scramble back to his feet as fast as possible, apparently set on continuing his flight.

"Potter, you _will _apologise! And detention for running over a professor! Eight o'clock , my potion-lab! Or no-" he hesitated. He wouldn't be able to supervise the brat's detention, not with him being busy researching. "No, you'll better join Mr Filch. Yes, I'm sure he'll find a task unpleasant enough to bring home the fact that this is a school, not a gymnasium! - I SAID NO RUNNING YOU ILL-BRED CHILD!" Snape barely managed to grab the boy by the collar of his robe before he could flee. Honestly, never before had he encountered a student that misbehaved! Even the boy's father's conduct paled in comparison with that of his son!

"LET ME GO!" Harry shouted, fighting whoever was preventing him from keep running. "LEAVE ME ALONE YOU STUPID BASTARD! DON'T TOUCH ME! I WANT TO GO NOW! LET ME GO!"

"Mr Potter! I won't tolerate you yelling at me like mad! What's the _matter_ with you, boy?" Severus barely managed not to shout. Why couldn't Potter act normally for once and allow him to have a quite, undisturbed lunch? Hell, he would spend his entire evening in a library because of the brat, but apparently this wasn't enough, no, he had to play baby-sitter during lunch-break, too!

"NOTHING 'S MATTER JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!"

Noticing that more and more students, attracted by Harry's vocal exclamations of discontent, gathered in the Entrance Hall, Snape decided the only reasonable thing to do would be to bring the boy somewhere quiet in order to find out what had happened this time. He hadn't forgotten the incident that had occurred the previous day during lunch, and you could never know, perhaps the boy did not only take an appalling amount of muggle-drugs but was also affected by these newly invented things muggles called "computer" or so. He had heard of those, and that it had become fashionable for muggles to have one of these things in their houses and even let their children play with it!  
Snape had read an interesting article in one of the few magazines that sometimes dealt with issues from the muggle-world and how it might affect wizards, and it had said that there had even been cases where muggles had started to behave weird and foolish because of these things, so Merlin knew how a _wizard _might react to being exposed to such a devilish thing!

"Come with me, Potter!" He snapped, and to his equal surprise and relief the boy did as he was told. Well, once he had led go of his robes, that was.

He couldn't know that Harry, after he had recognized the man he had run into, had calmed down considerably. This was the very man that had made the doctor-witch give him his medicine the day before, and this man hadn't locked him up although Harry had acted all crazy and mad and shouted and even kicked at him yesterday! So perhaps the man would do something nice again? Like showing him how this stick worked perhaps?

"So, Potter," Snape demanded, once he had led the boy into a deserted corridor, "would you care to explain what was the matter _this_ time?"

"Can you show me how to make stuff with that stick?"

"I- what?" Snape asked, taken aback. What was the brat talking about?

"Oh, I mean wand. Yes, it looks like a stick but it's a wand, I keep forgetting. Sorry. But do you help me?"

"Potter, stop this babbling and explain yourself!"

"Uhm, you know... we are supposed to make stuff happen with that wand. We have to wave it and say funny words and Ron and all the other can do it, their feathers, they floated, but my wouldn't. I have tried really hard, I promise, but I just can't do it. So are you going to help me?"

"Potter," Snape was getting frustrated. So the boy was useless at magic? Who would have thought this... the boy-who-lived unable to perform a simple spell? Yes, he would need tutoring if he wanted to stay alive for more than two seconds once the Dark Lord had returned. Not to mention defeat the vilest wizard in recent history. "Yes, Potter, I will help you. But only," he raised his voice when Harry started to speak, "only if you answer my questions to my satisfaction. And don't think I won't notice if you lie to me, boy!"

"Yes professor!"

"Ok. So what happened during lunch that caused you to leave the Great Hall in such a hurry that you ran over a teacher?"

"Um, I'm sorry..."

"Potter, I don't want to hear your feeble excuses, I want to have an explanation! And the truth, if you please!"

"Uh, I only wanted to go away... this girl – Hermione – she kept asking me stupid questions. And the other boy teased me about not sleeping in my bed. Well, this was in the morning, but everything went wrong. And I don't think I want to stay. No. Perhaps I could phone my Aunt? Or Dr Green? He told me I could phone him if something went wrong..."

"Who is Dr Green? And where did you sleep if not in your bed? You'd better not outside the tower, Potter!" Snape didn't ask who the question-asking girl had been. He had already heard from the other heads of houses about that annoying Gryffindor-girl that was unable to restrain herself and he had planned to teach the girl a lesson if she didn't keep quiet in potions.

"Um, well, there isn't a cupboard, only wardrobes and they are too small to sleep in, and it's really uncomfortable to lean on the wall, and well, I figured I could sleep under the bed since there is so much space and it's really nice and all... I don't like beds. I'm sorry if it's not allowed to sleep under them, I didn't know... "

"But why didn't you sleep _in _the bed like everyone else?!"

"Oh no, I don't sleep in beds. No. I don't like them, I can't sleep in one. No. Please don't make me! Do you?" Harry asked, worried. "Oh and Dr Green is my doctor. Yes. He prescribed the medicine I take."

"Your doctor. Then you _are_ ill, Potter?"

"Uhm, yes. They say so. Will you make me sleep in the bed?"

"You can sleep wherever you want to as long as you don't leave Gryffindor-tower, but I assure you that it is much more comfortable to sleep _in_ a bed instead of underneath it! Now, what kind of doctor it this Dr Green that he dares to prescribe a mere child all these drugs?!"

"A psychiatrist. Yes. It's a really difficult name, isn't it? But my Uncle made me say it until I got it right! 'I have to go to a psychiatrist because I'm a mad freak.' It was really nice of him to teach me, wasn't it?"

All the potion-master could do was not to choke.

* * *

**next Chapter: Snape visits a muggle library and learns some interesting things, and Harry has a little adventure.**


	15. The wisdom of muggles

_I don't own Harry Potter._

_Thanks to everyone who reviewed, I was overwhelmed by the response I got for the last chapter!_

_There are quite a few medical details in this chapter, I have tried to write it in a way so that everybody can understand it, but if I have overlooked some uncommon phrase or concept, just leave a review or pm me and I will answer any question!  
Just to avoid any confusion, "psychosis" is a generic term for different kinds of serious mental illnesses, "schizophrenia" is one specific kind of psychosis. Most people, however, think of schizophrenia if they talk/think about psychoses in general! _

_A few reviewers mentioned some things I want to address. Firstly, I know I have written that the Sorting Hat planned to tell someone about the things he has seen in Harry's mind, however, I decided to delay this matter in favour of the general plot. It wouldn't have worked the way I want it to if the hat interfered too soon. And as I'm by no means a perfect writer, I can't promise not to leave any plot holes, but I'm glad if you remind me of things I have hinted at because it can be quite overwhelming to keep track of all the plot-threads I try to create.  
Also, there will be side effects from Harry being of his meds, but they will develop slowly (over the course of a week)  
As for nobody visiting the Dursleys or Dr Green, again, I will include this, but as I don't want too make it easy for Snape (or Harry), this will occur later. Actually, we are still in the first week of classes, and I don't think it's very unreasonable that it would take a week or two before anyone visits the muggles to interrogate them about Harry.  
And finally, from the impression I got while writing, I do think that the story is speeding up, but nevertheless, we are by no means anywhere near the end!_

* * *

**Chapter 15 - The wisdom of muggles  
**

.

It wasn't the first time Severus broke into a muggle-house. It was, however, the first time he broke into a library.

He had thought about it carefully and had come to the conclusion that it would be wise to start his research in the medical section of the main library of London, as it probably was one of the biggest libraries in the UK. If he wouldn't find any information regarding Potter's... condition, he would need to visit one of the university libraries, although he hoped to avoid this, since it was incredibly difficult to find specific books in these facilities. He didn't know how muggles coped. Severus himself had been forced to visit such a library once or twice after he had left Hogwarts and studied potions in more depths, and he had only barely lived through this experience. How could you find any book without using magic, without it even have a magical classification number? And since he hadn't even the slightest clue what he was looking for it would be even worse today.

Although, this wasn't entirely true any more. Potter's outbreak during lunch had provided him with enough information to have at least a starting point in his quest.

A psychiatrist. The medicine had been prescribed by a psychiatrist. Severus could have slapped himself for not realizing this sooner. He had _seen_ the drugs the boy had taken, after all, and he had known that he had already heard of one of it. Haldol, Halolperidol, it was no surprise that Poppy didn't know about it! Even most potions-masters had never worked with it, as it had originally been invented by a mere muggle. Most wizards weren't capable of believing that muggles could achieve anything noteworthy.  
Severus, however, being a halfblood and also aware of what results substances mostly used by muggles could have (thanks to his dear father), had experimented with many chemicals only known amongst muggles. And it had proved quite fruitful, hadn't it, he would have never gained his mastery so fast if it hadn't been for a few of the more ingenious potions he had created or enhanced by using ordinary muggle chemicals in addition to magical substances.

There _had _been a reason why anybody who tried to create medicine, potions, whatever, had been burned as a witch (or sorcerer) only a few centuries ago. But if it hadn't been for the close cooperation of potioneers, shamans and people from all kind of different medical professions (muggles and wizards alike) that had existed until the Statue of Secrecy came into force, many drugs and other means of treatments for the most serious illnesses would have never been found.

After he had tried to turn off the alarm and learned that obviously muggles didn't think someone would break into a library (since no alarm was in place), he opened the door with a quick "Alohomora". To be absolutely sure that he wouldn't be disturbed, he cast a light muggle-repelling charm over the whole building before he started to search for the medical section. Fortunately, there were at least some signs at where to find books about the different subjects, and it took Severus only 5 minutes to find the shelves that contained books about all kind of muggle-illnesses and the corresponding treatments and drugs.

It was a tedious process. He had planned to start with searching for the two drugs he knew the boy had taken and he had already heard of, Halolperidol and Valium, in order to find out what muggles did with them. If this didn't work, he had thought about just scanning all the books about mental health and similar issues, since apparently this was what Ha- Potter what suffering from.

In retrospect, he was glad about the boy's outbreak earlier today, otherwise he would have to search the entire section and not just the few shelves that dealt with mental health. However, his lunch-break had been entirely ruined by the brat's statement that for one the boy's uncle had the cruelty to taunt a child – Potter or not - about being ill and additionally that he had obviously been treated for a mental illness by a muggle doctor! Didn't Petunia know how dangerous it could be for a wizard to take substances that meddled with the brain, with the mental state of a person?  
Of course, many potions affected the mental state, too, but these were potions and therefore magical! You couldn't just go and treat a wizard with any muggle-medication there was, it had to be adjusted to the special needs and conditions of wizards! Severus had read about cases where the repeated taking of muggle-drugs by wizards had led to all kind of awful side-effects, and sometimes even death. To be fair, only abuse of substances over a course of many years had led to the wizard's death, but nevertheless, it was far to risky!  
And even if Petunia hadn't remembered that Lily had taken potions instead of muggle-medicine after she had started Hogwarts (and that their parents had been relieved to learn that it was quite normal for a witch to react unpredictably to normal medicine), surely Dumbledore had told – or written - her when leaving Harry-, damn it, Potter! - with her family?

He hadn't been able to ask the headmaster, though, since after he had stormed into the hospital wing and demanded that Poppy showed him the medicine again (just to be sure that he wasn't mistaken), the bell had announced the end of lunch-break and he had to hurry not to be late for his next class. And after classes were over Minerva had informed him that Albus had been called to the ministry – apparently, Fudge had lost his bowler and needed the headmaster's help to find it – and that she didn't know when he would return.

Of course, during all that mess he had lost sight of the very first-year that was the cause of (almost) everything. Not that he worried about the little urchin, but it would have been nice to get more information out of him. Well, although it was quite probable that he wouldn't have gotten anything useful anyway, considering the slightly confused impression the boy made every time you tried to get consistent answers. But then, if the boy had taken this substance – Halolperidol – for Merlin knew how long, it was no surprise that he was confused. Hell, it was a miracle he was able to do anything besides lying in bed, staring into the space and drooling!

Trying to concentrate on the books rather then on the events of the afternoon, Severus turned his attention to a promising book about the treatment of schizophrenia. He hadn't a clue what exactly "Schizophrenia" was, though he thought he might have heard (or more likely read) the expression at some time. And hadn't the letter that was with all the pills mentioned it, too?  
He scanned the index. Symptoms, Causes, Treatments... there it was...Insulin coma therapy... electro-convulsing therapy... what was _that_? It didn't sound nice... Emergency measures... restraining of patients- they didn't tie people up, did they? Medication! There it was! And sure enough, one of the first drugs mentioned in the text was the very one Harry took, Halolperidol! Yes, he had a clue!  
Severus was thrilled. He hadn't thought he would find anything during his first night! Deciding that this book was worth a more thorough reading, he sat down on a nearby table.

Half an hour later, all delight about finding something useful had been replaced by a feeling of dread. It couldn't be, could it? The boy couldn't have this... this schizophrenia, could he? He was a child! Could children become psychotic? Could _wizards _become psychotic? Severus had never heard of such a case, never read about a wizard being psychotic. Yes, he had read about these psychoses before, when he had studied muggle-chemicals, since the substances they were normally treated with were most interesting and useful for many potions. It must have been the time when he read the expression "schizophrenia", too, but of course, he hadn't paid much attention to it, thinking it was some kind of muggle-illness of no real interest for a potioneer.

But if Harry suffered from this- the boy _was_ a wizard, even if he might not be a very powerful one, considering the difficulties he had with simple spells... well, it must mean that wizards could get it, too! However, why had he never heard of it? Why had Poppy, as a healer, never heard of it? He doubted that healers in St. Mungo would know about these kinds of mental illnesses since all they dealt with as far as mental health was concerned were spell damages, brain injuries caused by magic, confusions or worse things due to curses... but not with things like psychoses.

According to the book (and to Severus' very poor knowledge), psychoses and schizophrenia were caused by a disorder of the brain metabolism... an imbalance of chemicals that were necessary for the brain to function properly. Hence the treatment with substances that interfered with the way the human brain worked.  
Yes, it made sense... it made sense that muggle tried to deal with mental illnesses by giving the patients substances that altered the way the brain worked. After all, what should they do about it otherwise? Locking the people in for the rest of their life? They didn't have the potions and spells healers could use to calm down a person or heal any malfunctions of the brain!

However, Severus couldn't helped but feel increasingly frightened by what he was reading. This sounded awfully close to mind-control. Had muggles – perhaps inadvertently - found something that worked similar to the Imperius? He thought about the way Harry (he would think about the implications of his head thinking about the brat as "Harry" later) moved, the faraway look in his eyes... hadn't he himself considered, at least for a brief moment, the possibility of the boy being hit by not only one of the Unforgivables but two?

Deciding that for now he should stop worrying in favour of searching for other books – this one _might _be wrong, after all! - Severus stood up, leaving it on the table. He would made copies of all of the books that might be of interest in order to have a more thorough look at them when he was back in his quarters.  
Dimly, he thought that he would probably have to ask the house-elves for yet another book-shelf. He had a strange sense of foreboding that the enigma Harry posed would keep him busy for longer than he had expected. (Well, this wasn't really saying anything since only two days ago he had been set on ignoring the son of James Potter entirely, except for deducting points, of course).

After another hour or so, the potion-master had made copies of several other books as well, a few about schizophrenia and psychoses, a few about all kinds of mental illnesses, and, of course, many about the substances Harry took. Or some of them, at least.  
It had been disturbing to discover that apparently there were not only a few different drugs but a whole branch of medication for the treatment of these kinds of diseases. After he had had a quick look in one of the books, he had noticed that it didn't seem to be very unusual for a person to take two or more different kinds of these drugs like Harry did.

But it just couldn't be healthy, could it?

During his search, Severus had found references to several other substances he was familiar with from his work with potions. Most of them, though, he had never considered using in a potion that students would take, or any sick person at all! He was quite sure that if someone competent from the ministry (he had actually snorted at this, as it seemed to be something of a paradox) learned about these ingredients, they would be regarded as dark and evil and banned immediately (and therefore be a best-seller in Knockturn Alley).

Deciding that he had enough reading-material for the next few days, Severus shrunk the copies of the books and pocketed them. After removing the muggle-repelling charm, he apparated back to Hogsmeat, and fifteen minutes later he was back in his quarters. Since it was already 3 o'clock in the morning, he dismissed all thoughts about going to bed for at least a few hours, deducing that it would be more useful to spend the time reading some passages of the books in more detail. He _was _a potion-master, after all, so why not taking advantage of the stock of Pepper-Ups he had?

* * *

Poppy Pomfrey had never considered herself to be overly grumpy in the morning, but when an enraged potion-master stormed into her quarters at barely 6 o'clock in the morning, she was seriously tempted to shoot some of the nastier hexes at the ranting bat.

"Severus Snape! What it the meaning of this?!"

"The meaning of this? You ask what THE MEANING OF THIS IS? What do you think, considering the fact that I were forced to go to that bloody muggle library only because you are too incompetent with muggle psychiatry to recognize a case of a serious mental illness if you see one?!"

"Severus! There is no need to be rude! And may I remind you that _you _have proposed to do the research, as you have already been familiar with at least a few of the issues we're talking about?"

"Hmpf, perhaps St Mungo's should introduce some major changes in the apprenticeship of its healers. We just can't rely on healers that know nothing about muggle-medicine in a society where half the population live at least partially in the muggle-world! And certainly not in this school! Have you never told Albus about the dangers muggle-illnesses can pose for wizarding children?!"

"Repeatedly, Severus. But I gather from your agitation that you have found something useful regarding Mr Potter's condition?"

"Then bloody hell force him to pay for your further training! I won't do half of your job only because the old coot is too stingy to pay for a well-qualified healer at this school!"

"Severus, if you would please focus on the more urgently subject? I'm sure you'll be able to... ehm, convince the headmaster that it would be both in his and the school's best interest to increase the funds for the infirmary!"

"Sure I am! Well, yes, Potter – he's bloody psychotic, the boy!"

"Psychotic? What does that mean? Is this the reason he had taken all these pills?" The medi-witch gestured towards her office where Harry's medicine was still safeguarded.

"Yes. Well, it certainly seems so... perhaps it would be better if we sat down to discuss the whole mess. And perhaps- ah!" Severus interrupted himself when two steaming pots, one filled with coffee, one with tea, appeared on a nearby table. Having house-elves at one's disposal was certainly quite nice. Well, at least if they didn't try to "tidy up" your potion-lab!  
The two adults sat down, and after a few moments in which Severus relished the taste of strong, black coffee, he began to tell Poppy what he had accomplished so far.

"... and then, I decided that it would be reasonable to start reading some of these books in more detail. All the pills the boy takes are commonly used by doctors to treat serious mental illnesses! You know," he added after a blank look from Poppy, "like the Longbottoms-"

"WHAT? Do you mean to tell me the boy is in a similar condition as Alice and Frank are?!"

"Well, their son isn't much brighter, if you ask me..."

"Severus Snape! I won't have you insulting the poor Neville! And what do you mean, Harry being like Frank and Alice? He seems to be aware of what's going on, and he shouts quite a lot, if what Minerva tells is true. Surely-"

"No, but similar! There is a whole branch of muggle-diseases that are similar to the one's treated on the closed ward at St Mungo's. Imagine, like being hit by a Pertristis-hex* and it not being released for month or even years! Or a botched Imperius where neither you nor the caster can really control what you're doing. Or think of the effects it has when someone is exposed to too many cheering-charms!"

During Severus explanation, Poppy had noticeably paled. She might not know much about muggle-diseases, but she had seen her fair share of witches and wizards that had suffered under one of the conditions the potion-master had mentioned. It was a very complicated field for healers to work with, and only very few ever achieved mastery in mind-healing. Proficiency in Legilimency and Occlumency where essential, as was a certain knowledge about the Dark Arts, as most spells that could do significant damage to a person's mind where at least grey in nature. And while the cheering-charm, for instance, certainly wasn't dark, the overuse of it could not only lead to morbid cheerfulness but also to aggressiveness, over-estimation of one's own abilities and, as a result, to behaviour that could endanger both yourself and other people's health.  
All in all, not many people where willing to become mind-healers, and even fewer passed the mandatory examination by the ministry. After all, it wouldn't do to pass responsibility for unstable people or people who might even be victims of death-eaters or similar dark forces to wizards with ulterior motives.

"You mean... muggles have invented means to meddle with a person's mind, too?" Poppy asked, feeling increasingly sick.

"No, or well, yes, but it's complicated... they _have _invented substances that affect a person's mind. You know, similar to some potions. The ones Harry obviously took while staying with his relatives are some of these drugs. But-"

"YOU MEAN THEY HAVE PURPOSFULLY HARMED THE BOY BY GIVING HIM THIS STUFF?"

"NO! Will you just listen to me, witch! I don't think they wanted to harm the boy but to _help _him." A raised eyebrow was enough to make Poppy swallow the question she had been about to ask. "There are certain illnesses – mental illnesses – that are quite common amongst muggles. I don't think they have discovered any real causes of them... there are many different theories, like the person's sub-consciousness affecting the way the person thinks and feels and acts, or traumatic events that might have a long-term effect on people's feelings, or, and that seems to be the case with Harry, that the way the person's brain works could be disturbed... a disorder in a person's brain metabolism. Like I said, they don't really know why these things occur. But it doesn't matter, they either treat these things by a doctor talking to the patient every week for an hour or so, or by prescribing medicine. Sometimes even both, I think..."

"So they have treated the boy by giving him stuff that meddles with his mind?! But... he is just a child! It can't be healthy for a child to take such drugs! I mean, nobody would dose a child with Veritaserum or similar invasive potions, at least not repeatedly! And apparently, it doesn't work anyway, does it? I mean, if it did, they would stop giving the child these potions- eh, medicine, once he's better, wouldn't they?"

"I don't know for sure, but it seems that certain illnesses can't be cured. Only the symptoms can be suppressed. You know, like Lycantrophy... you can't do very much about it, only ensure that the person neither harms other nor himself... I don't know whether this is the case with Har- the boy. I need more information. The books can only tell so much if we don't know what exactly is wrong with him. Or what the muggles thought was wrong with him. Maybe it was only excessive accidental magic that led to Petunia taking him to a doctor... although she should know that accidental magic is completely normal. But then, it can be frightening for a muggle... well, I think we need to find out why exactly Harry was treated by a doctor. There must be files, I think... and perhaps it would be prudent to speak with Petunia... yeah. Eh, can I have another look at the paper that was with the medicine?"

"Sure," and the medi-witch summoned the strange letter Harry had brought her just two days ago. She passed it to the tired-looking potion-master who read it and frowned.

"They aren't very forthcoming with information, these muggles, aren't they? Well, at least we have the name of the doctor... and the hospital- I wonder whether the child was actually hospitalized? And what are these numbers supposed to mean?!" Severus grumbled on and on until Poppy interrupted him.

"So what are we going to do? Can we just keep giving Mr Potter these forged pills? Or do he really need the real ones? And isn't there a potion you could brew him instead of all these pills? It doesn't feel right to give a child several different drugs each day... you can never know how they might react with potions if the boy should ever come down with the flu or something..."

"I don't know... I think I'll speak to him after classes and try to get more information. Then we might need to visit the muggle-doctor the boy was treated by – I won't do this bit alone, no, can't see any reason why I should be the only one that has to do all the irritating business only because Albus hasn't bothered to check on the boy before – or instructed the teacher that accompanied him on his trip to Diagon Alley to ask for all these things – I mean, it is obvious that something is wrong with the boy! What moron was responsible for Potter getting his stuff for school?!"

"Eh, I think Albus said something about having sent Hagrid because-"

"HAGRID?! Oh no wonder we didn't get any information about the brat's condition! Hagrid, honestly! What was the old coot thinking?!"

"Well I suppose he thought Hagrid would be sufficient since Harry's family already knew about magic... but Albus told us already, didn't he?"

"Do you think I have nothing better to do then to remember everything the old coot says about his precious boy-who-lived?" Severus huffed. Now that he thought about it, he was quite sure that Albus had indeed told them whom he had sent when they had met the other day. Damned! The Potter-brat was already occupying his thoughts far more than he had ever considered possible. Where, for Merlin's sake, would that lead to?

"Hm, well, Hagrid has adored the boy since that Halloween, I think he was thrilled..."

"Of course he was." Severus needed all his self-restraint to prevent himself from marching into the headmaster's office – or more likely bedroom – and demand answers. Either Albus had finally gone nuts or he played a very, _very _game.

Or, the potion-master thought when he was on his way back to his quarters (after Poppy had promised him her full support in whatever Severus would decide to do next. A rather open-ended promise, he thought wrily. No, Poppy wasn't a Slytherin by any means.), it might very well be Albus' typical self-delusion that prevented him from seeing that it wasn't wise to send the Grounds-keeper to retrieve the boy-who-lived, or that Lily's sister might not have been the ideal guardian for any wizard. Sometimes he wondered whether Dumbledore had ever been hit by a hex that forced him believe the best of everyone. It would certainly explain why he trusted an Ex-Death Eater with finding out what was wrong with his precious _weapon._

* * *

Harry couldn't sleep. He had tossed and turned under his bed all night, unable to rest. He didn't know what was wrong. Normally, he fell asleep as soon as he lied down, the medication making him quite drowsy. It wasn't as bad as it had been when he had started taking it – or each time Dr Green decided that he needed to take more – but he couldn't remember the last time he had been unable to sleep at all. When the sky began to shift from black to a deep blue, the first traces of read visible on the horizon, he decided that he might as well get up early and visit Hedwig in the owlery. If he would find the way, that was.

On the last two days, his owl had visited him during breakfast, even so she hadn't brought him any letters (not that Harry had expected any).  
The first morning, Harry had hid under the table as soon as some kind of rushing noise could be heard and a cloud of flying things entered the Great Hall. Fortunately, he discovered after Hedwig had arrived, most of his class-mates had been busy searching for their respective owls, urgently waiting for forgotten books, stuffed animals or pants, and only Hermione had glanced at him curiously. But just then, Hedwig had landed next to his plate, missing the butter by half an inch or so, and Harry had emerged from his place of refuge, beaming.

When he had discovered (after his first night) that his owl apparently hadn't slept in the dorm with him, he had been rather worried, and had already made plans for searching his now-beloved pet instead of going to classes. Surely friends where more important than lessons? But then, right before he could ask Ron whether he would join him (the red-head seemed to be far more knowledgeable about all the freaky things, the castle and well, everything) in an organized search, the birds had flown into the hall.  
Later, Ron had told him that, unlike rats or toads or cats, owls weren't permitted to sleep in the dormitories or common rooms but had a special tower that allowed them to come and go as they pleased. He had even shown Harry the way to the owlery – it seemed to be one of the most important places to know, especially for homesickness-ridden first-years – but he wasn't sure he had remembered every bend and staircase. It wasn't far from Gryffindor-tower, though, so there was a chance he might succeed in finding it.

About half an hour later, however, a small black-haired and bespectacled boy could be found sitting on the ground of a deserted and rather cold corridor, shivering.

He had not the slightest clue where he was, nor whether the owlery was anywhere nearby. All he knew was that it had been a very bad idea to leave the dorm this early in the morning without putting on an extra cloak or at least a jumper. Harry felt as if he had searched the entire castle, though he suspected this wasn't the case. Otherwise, he would have encountered at least _some _places he already knew, like the Great Hall or a classroom or only the one corridor with this funny statue, wouldn't he? Briefly, he wondered whether he was anywhere near one of the other houses or at least a teacher's room – how was he supposed to find his way to breakfast or classes otherwise? - but he hadn't much hope. This part of the castle didn't really look as if it was inhabited at all.

"Hedwig?" Harry called, trying to remain calm. Panic wouldn't help him now. Of course, there wasn't a reply. Perhaps if he called louder?

"HEDWIG?" - Still nothing. He felt so tired. He didn't know what was the matter with him – hadn't he be unable to sleep almost the entire night? He just wanted to lie down and sleep, he didn't have the energy to continue his search. But he needed to find his way back anyway, he couldn't stay in this dark corridor forever.  
The boy got up, holding on the wall. It was good that the walls of the castle were made of stone and therefore very rough, ideal for anyone who had difficulties standing on his own. He didn't understand why he felt this dizzy! It wasn't normal! Sometimes, he really, really hated the pills he had to take. Why couldn't he just be like other people?!  
But then, if he was normal, he had never come to Hogwarts. And even so he certainly didn't view the castle in a very favourable light just now, it was much nicer than Privet Drive and the hospital.

"HEEEEEEDWIIIIIG" He tried it again. Perhaps, if his owl wouldn't hear him – and even if she did, she couldn't really do anything about Harry being lost, could she? – another student or teacher or even Mr Filch would come to his rescue.  
He staggered forward. Another bend and another, a corridor that looked even darker then the one before, and there was a staircase. After a brief consideration, he decided against climbing up to the next floor, as it seemed much too tiring. Again and again, he called for his owl.

Then, faintly at first, there was a hooting. It got louder and louder, but Harry didn't dare to hope. But suddenly, there was a white, shadowy figure, rushing through the corridor with an alarming speed.

"HEDWIG!"

The owl managed to slow down her mad flight just before she dashed into her master's face, landed gracefully (well, at least as gracefully as you can expect an owl to be that had just broken the record in flying-as-fast-as-possible-through-a-castle-with-f ar-to-many-bends-in-order-to-rescue-your-master) on his left shoulder and gave a satisfied hoot.

"Hedwig! You found me!" Harry stated, amazed. His owl was so clever! Carefully, he stroked her soft feathers, immensely relieved that he wasn't alone any more.

"Uhm, I think it was kind of stupid searching for the owlery all by myself," - the look Hedwig gave him seemed to confirm this - "well, I wanted to visit you... you have visited me yesterday and the day before, and I thought it was only fair if today I would visit you... I couldn't sleep, you know, and well...uhm, I don't suppose you know the way back to the Gryffindor-tower? Or the Great Hall? Hm, perhaps we- wha-?" Harry was taken aback when Hedwig's claws dug a little bit deeper into his shoulders – had he somehow offended the owl? But then she took off, hovered in front of him and looked at him as if to say "I'm a certified post-owl and I certainly know my way around!"

Five minutes later, a happy Harry entered Gryffindor-tower, a very proud Hedwig sitting on his shoulder.

* * *

_Pertristis (Latin) - very sad_

**Next chapter: Does Harry have magic at all? Another meeting of certain teachers, a conspiracy between Snape and McGonagall and the beginning of the long-awaited talk between Harry and his potion-professor!  
**


	16. Mistrust

_I don't own Harry Potter_

_When writing the last chapter, I tried to figure out which library Severus would most likely go to. However, since I neither knew whether the British Library had up-to-date specialized literature about medicine/psychiatry (____Thanks to littlewhitecat, though, for explaining a few details about the British Library!_) nor whether the university libraries are similar to those in Germany nor which one is the biggest public library in London in general, I decided to stick to the more general term "London Main Library". So I leave it to your imagination (or the knowledge of people who are familiar with all the different libraries in London) to decided which one Severus visited.  


* * *

**Chapter 16 - Mistrust  
**

"HARRY! Where have you been?"

The boy in question had barely time to climb through the portray-hole into the Gryffindor common-room when he was attacked by a red-headed someone. "Ron... is everything all right?" Harry asked, surprised by the enthusiastic greeting. Hedwig, annoyed at being jostled, gave a screech and hopped onto the nearest armrest.

"That's what I wanted to ask _you_! Where have you been? It's almost time for breakfast and you weren't under your bed... well, I thought perhaps I should wake you, so I looked under your bed, but you weren't there.. I even looked _in _your bed, but then Neville," Harry saw the other boy standing nervously at the foot of the stairs leading to the boy's dormitories, "he said that you wouldn't sleep in a bed because each time someone had suggested it you'd looked like he felt when his grandma made him go to St Mungo's!"

For a few seconds, Ron's babbling stopped. He couldn't imagine why Neville would be afraid of going to St Mungo's. Ron had been there a few times himself, mostly because his mother had made him visit Aunt Muriel when she had been bitten by one of her strange plants, but this one time he had an argument with the twins and... well, maybe it wasn't exactly fun going to the hospital, but being terrified because of it? But then, it didn't make sense that Harry was afraid of sleeping in beds either – and Ron had clearly seen the fear in the other boy's eyes when Seamus had suggested that he might want to sleep _in_ the bed rather than under it. But everyone had some quirks, Ron thought. He hated spiders, after all... though he couldn't think of anything that would make you afraid of beds!

"Uhm, well," he added, "Neville suggested that you might have woken up early and decided to practice your Wingardium Leviosa... so we looked in the common-room but couldn't find you... well, you're there now..." he finished somewhat sheepishly.

Now that Harry was standing right in front of him, he couldn't imagine why he had been so worried. But somehow it had given him the creeps to think about Harry going for a walk all by himself and all the Slytherins that might attack him. He was almost sure that the snakes knew some very nasty curses – their parents where all Death-Eaters, after all – and Harry hadn't even managed the very first spell yet, he would never be able to properly defend himself!

During the last few day's, Ron's image of the famous boy-who-lived had changed considerably. Harry Potter wasn't anything like his mother had pictured him in the daily bedtime stories.

For one, he was much smaller and skinnier than Ron (and even than his little sister Ginny, he thought!). What hero was this tiny? Then, he seemed to be really nervous all the time, nothing like the brave and confident defeater of you-know-who. Additionally, he was the only one who had yet to manage the levitating spell, and this meant that he wasn't overly powerful, didn't it? But then, Ron supposed, they hadn't had DADA yet, perhaps Harry was only a genius in this one subject?

Maybe most importantly, though, Ron constantly felt as if he had to look out for his new friend. He was almost positive that if nobody did, Harry would miss classes and keep running into walls because of his constant day-dreaming (or whatever it was). Ron knew he wasn't good with feelings and all this girly stuff, but despite the real Harry being so different from the Harry Potter from the stories, he liked him. And it made him angry if anyone made fun of his friend because of him being different. He hadn't forgiven Seamus for the comment he had made the previous evening, about Harry being a lunatic that shouldn't attend Hogwarts but rather being locked up. Fortunately, Harry hadn't heard this, but Ron had been seriously tempted to break one of his mother's most important rules (no fighting).

"Eh, I have only searched for the owlery... I couldn't sleep and wanted to visit Hedwig." Harry considered it better not to mention that he hadn't actually found the owlery. He didn't want his friend think of him as being completely stupid. Well, if he didn't think this already, that was, because it had become quite clear that no other first-year was as bad in doing magic as Harry was.

Ron snapped out of his thoughts. "Oh, all right... I mean, I shouldn't have worried, kind of silly I think...," Merlin, this was embarrassing, "uhm, do you come to breakfast with us?" He gestured towards Neville. Apparently, the shy boy's help in his search for Harry had caused Ron to actually notice the fifth boy in their dorm for the first time.

"Uh, all right... I just get a jumper." He was still cold.

###

Later, after another lesson with Professor McGonagall (in which Harry had tried and failed to transfigure his matchstick, while all of his class-mates succeeded), Harry was rather downcast. It wasn't fair that he couldn't even be a normal freak! All what he wanted was to be like everybody else, but even amongst other freaks he still stood out. He had noticed the looks the Professor had given him. She, too, must have realized how abnormal Harry was.

Perhaps everything had been a mistake? Perhaps he was a different kind of freak than all the other people here? Everyone at Hogwarts seemed to be a wizard (or a witch). Except for Harry. If one couldn't do magic, one wasn't a wizard, this was quite simple, wasn't it?

And then, he hadn't seen anyone else taking medicine. He, Harry, had taken pills for almost all his life. So maybe the Hagrid-man had made a mistake? Perhaps there was another Harry out there that had been supposed to come to Hogwarts instead of him? Neither his first name nor Potter, his last name, were very uncommon, after all.

Harry supposed he should tell a teacher that Hagrid might have made a mistake. It was quite unfair if only because of him, the real Harry – the wizard-Harry – couldn't learn magic, wasn't it? But he couldn't bring himself to do so. He couldn't help but to like this strange place. As soon as the teachers learnt that he wasn't supposed to be here, he would have to go, Harry was sure of this. So either he told them right away that he wasn't a wizard, but only a normal freak, or he waited until they figured it out on their own. If he waited until they asked him to leave, they might get angry. But if he told them voluntarily, they might not believe him and become angry nevertheless. This was how it worked, wasn't it? Adults didn't believe children, well, at least not freaky children like himself. He was crazy, and therefore nothing he said could be considered true. It were the adults that decided what was right and wrong, what was real and what wasn't, not Harry.

He sighed. Perhaps he would ask Ron what he thought would be the best thing to do.

* * *

"Filius, perhaps you could start and tell us about the observations you made regarding Mr Potter?" Albus Dumbledore suggested. It was early in the evening and the four heads of houses had gathered in the headmaster's office in order to discuss the first few days of term, how the first-years were settling in and, well, one first-year in particular. Normally, this meeting wasn't held until at least a week or so into term, but after Dumbledore had been approached by a worried Charms-professor, a Transfiguration-professor that demanded to know "what these muggles have done to Harry that causes him to be afraid of magic", not to mention Madame Pomfrey's hint during breakfast that the potion-master had found some rather disturbing information (though she hadn't gone into more detail) during his research the previous evening, he had thought it wise to summon the heads to his office for this very evening, if only to appease them and prevent them from staging a revolution.

But there couldn't be something seriously wrong with Harry, could there? Sure, the boy might struggle a bit, but he wouldn't be the first student that had difficulties in classes. A few private lessons, and he would catch up in no time!

"There isn't really much to tell, Albus," the tiny charms-professor, who was sitting in one of the armchairs in the corner of the headmaster-office, said in a sombre tone. "Mr Potter seems to be unable to perform the Levitating Charm. I held him back after class and asked him whether he was nervous or if he couldn't concentrate or something, but he hardly answered me at all. I thought that perhaps he was intimidated by all the other students, so I let him perform the charm again after everyone had left. But the result was the same. Then, I asked him to try to cast 'Lumos', but again, nothing happened... somehow, the boy seems to be incapable of performing charms..."

The room was completely silent. It couldn't be, could it? The boy-who-lived couldn't be this powerless... he couldn't be barely more than a squib!

"Hm, perhaps charms just isn't his forte?" Albus suggested, his tone almost pleadingly.

"He is unable to transfigure a matchstick into a needle, too," the Transfiguration-Professor disabused him from that notion, "every new first-year except for him has managed it... I'm sorry, Albus, but something is certainly wrong with Mr Potter's magic. I don't know how it's possible, though... if he was a squib, his name wouldn't have appeared in the book in the first place. But he was there, I looked it up shortly after Lily had given birth to him, just to be sure! And his name would only have vanished if he had died, it's just not possible for someone to lose his magic!"

"It's not possible to survive the Killing-Curse either." Severus added, thoughtfully.

"Well... but he has gotten his letter!" Minerva argued, "he wouldn't have gotten it if he wasn't a wizard! If That Night had somehow damaged his magic it would have become apparent directly after it happened, wouldn't it, Albus? You and I _saw_ the boy the evening after it happened!"

"Yes, yes, I think you're right, Minerva," the headmaster said, "I don't think I would have missed something like this... but anyway, it's just not possible for young Harry not to be a wizard, I mean, if he was a squib, I would have to place the same charm on him I put on Argus, otherwise he wouldn't be able to move around freely..."

"This might be true, headmaster, but have you ever truly checked the boy after he survived That Night? Or did you just assume that since he was alive everything must be all right?" The guilty face of the headmaster was all Severus needed as an answer. "Are you mad, Albus!? The child had just been hit by the Killing-Curse and you never even bothered to check whether this experience had somehow damaged the boy? Do I really need to explain to you that exposure to dark magic leaves _always_ traces? What did you do with the boy, Dumbledore?! Just rang up Petunia and told he to take the son of her just-deceased sister and raise him?!"

"No, he laid him on her doorstep and put a letter in his blankets" Minerva spat. She had never really forgiven her employee for just leaving little Harry alone like this. And she surely hadn't forgiven herself for letting Albus do so.

"You- WHAT?!"

"Now, now, Severus, I cast several protection-charms, Harry was perfectly safe! And when Petunia took him in in the morning she activated the blood-wards, nothing could have possibly happened to him!" Albus tried to placate his youngest staff-member.

"Are you that thick, Albus?! The boy had not only just survived the worst curse possible, but he had also somehow banished the darkest wizard of recent history _and _seen his mother die! Not to mention being buried under the rubble of the Potter's house – and you just left him on someone's doorstep?! A MUGGLE doorstep nonetheless?! Did it never occur to you that, if there had been something wrong with him, there would have been nothing Petunia could have done about it, you foolish coot?"

"But he was OK!" Albus protested.

"Ah, and you could see this just by looking at him? The least you could have done was to check him for any major damages the curse could have inflicted! Of course, any responsible person would have brought the child to St. Mungo's - don't interrupt me, Dumbledore, I _know_ that St Mungo's wouldn't have been save for the boy that had just conquered the Dark Lord, but you should have done _something_!"

The headmaster sighed. "Perhaps you are right, Severus... I just... well, I didn't want to expose the little child to additional invasive spells... surely it can't be good for such a young child to be subjected to too many powerful spells! And... Hagrid told us he was all right, and he seemed to be completely healthy... apart from the cut on his forehead, of course..."  
Dumbledore paused. Could the scar have something to do with Harry being unable to perform magic? The scar was the symbol of Harry's link with Tom. The indication that Harry would have to kill Tom. Or being killed by him. But could it be more? Sure, he had thought about different possibilities, but then, it couldn't be something bad, could it? The child seemed to be reasonably happy, he had already started to make friends, he had been sorted into Gryffindor ... he tried to squelch the uneasy feeling he got when he thought about the boy's sorting.

Severus observed Albus closely. The old coot was clearly hiding something. "Maybe it would be better for the boy to stop attending classes?"

"But Severus, Harry _needs to be_ trained! He can't just attend muggle-school, he _is _a wizard!" Minerva objected. She wouldn't allow one of her new lions being taken away from her after just a few days of classes! Harry might not be powerful, but he was a wizard, and a Gryffindor!

"I don't mean he should be pulled out of Hogwarts completely, Minerva, but of what avail is it if the boy attends classes and constantly fails to perform the required spells?"

"Well, he can at least learn the theory..."

"Severus, Poppy mentioned that you have found some information regarding Harry's health?" Albus interrupted, clearly intending to stir the conversation away from Harry's lack of magical power.

"Yes," Severus frowned. Did the headmaster think that by ignoring the boy's problems they would just go away? "I don't think it would be appropriate to discuss my findings in front of all heads, though." He cast a meaningful look at Pomona and Filius. He might not like the boy but he wouldn't violate a students privacy like this.

"Ah yes... ehm, perhaps you and I can talk about it later, then?" When no opposition came, the headmaster continued with some of the more mundane issues that arose almost every year.  
It wasn't much later, though, that the heads of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw retreated to their respective quarters and only Severus, Albus and Minerva (as Harry's head of house) stayed behind in Albus' office.

"So, Severus, what did you find out?"

"The boy seems to have a mental illness, or more specifically something they call 'psychosis'. Well, or so they thought anyway. I haven't found out yet whether it could be somehow related to the fact that he's a wizard. I have never heard of anything similar, however, and I'm quite sure if it was only the fact that the boy can do magic – or at least should be able to do so – we would already know about it. I mean, if the muggles would have learned of magic and considered it a mental illness surely we – or at least some people in the Ministry and therefore you, too, Albus – would be aware of this? According to the books, it isn't a newly discovered illness but rather something that has existed as long as the books can tell. A few decades ago, scientists seems to have invented new substances to treat these kinds of illnesses, though, and some of these drugs are the very same Potter takes – or took... I haven't been able to find out much more, though. There might be other illnesses that are treated with the same drugs, I don't know..."

"But what _does _this medicine do?" Minerva demanded.

"It affects his mind. Yes, these mental illnesses, they seem to be rather similar to the effects certain curses can have on people's mind... and they are quite common amongst muggles. I don't know whether wizards are somehow immune to them or whether the healers are just too focused on magical diseases to recognize them... wouldn't be the first time the esteemed staff of St Mungo's is unable to cure simple muggle-illnesses!" Severus sneered.

"So... Harry's mind his somehow... damaged?"

"It certainly seems so."

"But why? I mean, there must be a reason for something like this to happen! He's just a child, after all!" Minerva was clearly upset. Albus, however, gazed into nothingness, deep in thoughts.

"Apparently, they haven't found anything specific yet. There are certain... theories, but it is quite clear that they don't know very much about these kinds of disorders."

"But how can they treat the people if they don't know what's the cause of everything? _You_ said that Harry has taken all these pot- eh, medicines because of this- this pycosis!"

"They treat the symptoms. You know, like giving people who have caught a cold a pepper-up potion."

The room was silent while each of the three people present was lost in his own thoughts. Minerva tried to make sense of everything she had just learnt, Dumbledore tried (and failed) to suppress the feeling that all of this might have something to do with the failed Avada Kedavra or the prophecy, and Severus... well, Severus discreetly observed the headmaster, trying to determine how much the old man knew and whether he was hiding something that could be of importance.  
He might somehow be indebted to Albus, as he would have never stayed out of Azkaban if not for the headmaster's claim that he had been a spy, but this didn't mean that he trusted the man blindly. No, the potion-master was well aware that Dumbledore kept many things for himself if he thought it would serve some dubious "Greater Good". There was no doubt that he was a great wizard and devoted to the light, but this hadn't prevented him from making some terrible mistakes in the past, mistakes other people had paid for with their health or even life.  
Who knew whether his questionable handling of Harry hadn't been another one of these mistakes?

"I suppose someone will need to go and see the doctor who has prescribed the medicine. Considering Potter's behaviour and the... naturalness with that he takes all these pills I doubt it is something that has only occurred recently." The potion-master explained. He wasn't sure how Albus would react to this. If this was some kind of dubious plan of him, he might very well oppose any further investigation.

"Yes, my boy, I think you're right..." OK, perhaps, for a change, it wasn't something that Albus had planned all along? "Are you willing to carry out the task?"

"Me?! Why me?!" Again, Severus mentally added. Wasn't it enough that he had been responsible for finding out what was wrong with the boy, a job that clearly pertained to the competence of the medi-witch?

"Well, you seems to be the most knowledgeable person when it comes to these kind of things. And you have already proved yourself to be able to get any information one could possibly want."

"You know, Albus, that the people responsible for the boy's past treatment are muggles? Legilimency doesn't work when it is done on muggles!"

"I'm well aware of it, Severus, however, I'm confident that you'll find means to extract any information we might need. Of course, I will provide you with all the information I have regarding Harry's upbringing... perhaps it would even suffice to speak to Lily's sister? Perhaps it isn't something as unusual as it seems to be... after all, there are quite a few funny rituals muggles have invented over the course of time to make up for the lack of magic..."

Severus shared a meaningful look with Minerva, who had stayed silent throughout their conversation (as there wasn't much useful the transfiguration-professor could contribute to the subject at hand anyway). Again, their employee showed a remarkable talent for convincing himself that everything might be all right. Or was he only trying to appease his two professors? Severus didn't know. Sometimes he thought that he preferred people like the Dark Lord over meddlesome, allegedly light wizards. At least the Dark Lord had always made it clear where he stood. Something you couldn't say of Albus.

Just when he was about to deny the headmaster's request – he was paid for teaching the brats potion, not for acting as the general dogsbody – Severus noticed Minerva giving him a slight nod. The head-lioness was all right with him being responsible for the Potter-quest?! He had assumed she would veto any notion that put a snake in charge of one of her precious cubs!  
He gave her a questioning glance and received another nod in reply. OK, something very strange was going on. But apparently, McGonagall had decided that she wouldn't say anything in front of the headmaster. There was only one thing Severus could do.

"OK, Albus, I'll do it. But if you don't mind, I think it would be reasonable to speak with the boy himself before questioning his relatives. Or doctors."

"Of course, my boy! I trust you'll come to me if you need any information about Petunia?" He received a nod and continued. "All right, I expect a report about how things are progressing in... let's say two weeks? This should be enough time to find out whether we need to do something about Harry and his... problems."

###

A few minutes later, the potion-master and the transfiguration-professor were on their way to the dungeons. Neither of them said anything until Severus had closed the door of his quarters behind them.

"What the hell is going on, Minerva?" He demanded, annoyed. This term wasn't anything he had expected it to be. Instead of assigning the Potter-brat detentions and deducting points, he spent his free times reading muggle-books about mental illnesses and now he even played host of the head of Gryffindor herself! Why couldn't the boy just be like his father?! Surely this couldn't be as stressful as his actual state was, could it?

"I don't pretend to understand what exactly is wrong with Harry, but I want to know what is going on and whether Albus knows anything he doesn't tell us! I can't quite believe that he has no idea of what might be the reason for Harry's behaviour and this... this mecin and everything! When he left him with those muggles – I was there.." Minerva swallowed.

"Why do you think Albus is hiding something?" Severus asked, curiously. Hadn't it been Minerva who had always supported Albus in everything he did, claiming they needed to trust the headmaster even if some of his decisions might be somehow... odd?

"I don't know... it's just- I saw the boy yelling and screaming at Poppy when she didn't want to give him this mecin, and he just... I don't know, he is so different from all the other first-years. Something isn't right about him, I can feel it! And then... Albus didn't say so, but that night – he _was _worried about the cut Harry had sustained. I asked him whether there wasn't something he could do about it, but he just said that scars could be useful... how could a scar on the forehead possibly be useful, apart from preventing the poor boy from going anywhere without being recognized?! I can't really explain it,Severus, it's just a feeling that Albus knows more then he lets on. And that it might not be in Harry's best interest if this continues..."

"Hm... what did he say exactly about the scar and... and what had happened – that night?" He really didn't want to think back to those days, probably the worst time of his entire life. Apparently, though, his wish wouldn't be granted. 'And all because of Potter', Severus thought, but somehow he couldn't summon the energy to be properly furious about the brat's annoying habit of disturbing his peace.

"If I remember correctly, he just rambled about how useful his own scar above his left knee was – though I really don't know how he would explain it to the muggles if he undressed himself in the London Underground just to find his way – and said that there wasn't something he could do about Harry's injury, and that even if he could heal the cut, he wouldn't do it... I don't know whether I understood him correctly, Hagrid was weeping rather nosily, but I think he mumbled something about a mark that would predetermine the boy's future..."

"Hm... so what do you expect me to do?" Severus asked, still suspicious whether Minerva just wanted him to be too occupied with the Potter-quest to assign too many detentions to her Gryffindor-brat's.

"Well, just find out what the hell is wrong with Harry and how we can help him!"

"Even if this meant to oppose any plans the old codger may have for the boy?" The potion-master was sure that this argument would save him from additional bothersome trips and enquiries regarding the new Gryffindor. After all, Minerva – or any Gryffindor for that matter – would never oppose the great Albus Dumbledore!

"Yes."

The next two hours, Severus spent taking stock of all his mind-altering potion, trying to figure out which one was missing.

* * *

"Potter, stay after class!" The potion-master snapped when the bell rang, announcing the end of the first potion-class of the Gryffindor and Slytherin first-years. It hadn't been fun. Originally, Severus had planned to quiz Potter on some potion-related topics no normal first-year would know about, but after everything that had transpired during the last few days he had come to the conclusion that it might be easier to question the boy about his life before Hogwarts without having him intimidated beforehand. "Potter! Haven't you heard what I said?!"

Harry startled when Ron poked him in the ribs. "He's talking to you!" The red-head, who had sat next to Harry in every class they had had so far, hissed, and cast a wary glance at the potion-master. Harry, who had been busy clearing up the desk, followed his gaze and swallowed. Uh oh. The professor looked really angry. "Yes, Professor?"

"Stay after class!"

"Uh, yes..." Harry wondered what the professor could possibly want. As far as he could tell, he hadn't done anything wrong while brewing the potion. Which was mostly due to Ron's help, though, he had to admit. Without his new friend, Harry supposed he would have been lost. Ron had prevented him more than once from forgetting to add ingredients to the potion – Harry just couldn't keep track on everything you had to do while brewing potions, cutting weird stuff, stirring regularly clockwise or counter-clockwise, adding the right things at exactly the right moment, not losing track of time... and even so Harry was glad that, apart from herbology and history, there seemed to be another class that didn't require him waving that stupid wand, he assumed potions would be the most difficult subject from all of them.

But then it occurred to him. Perhaps the professor would show him how to use the wand? After all, he had promised to help Harry! And now he even stuck to his promise! As far as Harry remembered, nobody had ever done so! How very nice of the professor!  
Quite cheerfully now, he turned his attention to the other students, who trickled out of the classroom. A few of them eyed Harry either with pity or disdain.  
That were the Slytherins. Until now, Harry hadn't notice anything particularly evil about them, despite Ron's claims to the contrary. Sure, they didn't seem to like him, but his family didn't either. But Harry was positive that the Dursley's didn't hate him, after all, they had taken him in when nobody else had wanted him and had kept him even when he had gone nuts. Not many families would have done this, even Dr Green had said so! So he didn't really understand why Ron kept insisting on all Slytherin's being evil, but since the other boy seemed to be far more knowledgeable about everything wizardish, Harry considered it would be better to keep his distance from the snakes.

He noticed that Ron didn't show any sign of leaving the room with all the other students but remained seated, a determined (if somehow terrified) expression on his face.

"Mr Weasley, I'm quite certain I only asked Mr Potter to stay behind." Obviously, Snape had noticed Ron's unwillingness to leave, too.

"I wait for him!" The boy in question squeaked, trying and failing to sound brave.

"Then wait outside this classroom. Out! Now!"

"But... I stay with Harry! He's my friend!" Ron wasn't a Gryffindor for nothing. But even he had to admit that an enraged potions-masters was almost as fearsome as the spider Fred and George had hidden under his blanket the night before they had left for Hogwarts.

Snape inwardly groaned. Gryffindors! No sense of self-preservation! "15 points from Gryffindor and it will we 10 more for each minute you fail to leave this room! Now, remove yourself from this classroom! Or do you care for helping Filch scrubbing the toilets, too?"

That did it. Casting an apologetic glance at Harry, the red-head turned around and hurried out of the classroom. The potion-master flicked his wand in the direction of the door and it swung shut.

"Now, Potter, there has been some confusion as to why you have to take this medicine. Since the people normally responsible for you are too... uninformed to be of much use, it has fallen to me to- WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?!"

Harry flinched. The knife he and Ron had used to cut the ingredients for their boil-cure potion fell from his hand and landed on the ground, clattering. "I... I suppose Ron forget to put the knife away.." he answered, dazed. This had been close. If the professor hadn't yelled at him like this, the demon might very well have managed to slit his throat! He really, _really_ didn't like all these knives they had here at Hogwarts. Not only had he to fight the demon at each meal, but now he even had to be on his guard during classes!  
Throughout the lesson, Harry had tried very hard to stay as far away from the knife as possible. He had told Ron that he wasn't really good in handling knives, and the boy had accepted it even if it meant he had to do all the cutting (they had agreed on Harry clearing up the table, though). Nevertheless, Harry felt bad about it, but on the other hand, he couldn't risk the demon – who had also noticed the knife, Harry could tell it – getting hold of it and cutting him in front of the entire class. Or even hurting other. Sure, the demon had never done this before, but Harry wouldn't put it past him to try.  
But why did it have to happen today of all the times? Now that the professor had seen for himself what a mad freak Harry was he surely wouldn't help him figuring out how to use this stupid wand! Harry's shoulders slumped. Great. He might have just mugged up the only chance he might have had to stay at Hogwarts.

Severus felt his heart-rate slowing down again. For a moment, he had thought the boy was about to attack him – or himself? - with the knife. Had imagined to see a strangely familiar, red glint in Harry's eyes.  
Perhaps his mind was playing tricks on him? Or it was because of all that stuff he had read in the books, about mentally ill people who had killed or hurt themselves or others. As if Potter would ever do such a thing! Even if the boy really was mentally ill, it must be a cry for attention and perhaps buried memories about That Night that caused him to have nightmares. Yes, Potter – like his father – would never think of stabbing someone with a knife or even hurting himself. Gryffindors might kill someone out of sheer stupidity, but their twisted sense of right and wrong would never allow them to murder a person just for pleasure.

"Potter!" Severus decided to try a direct approach, "you will tell me what exactly has happened during your stay with those muggles! And rest assured, you won't leave this room until I'm fully satisfied with your answers!"

* * *

**Next Chapter: Severus and Harry talk and the Potion Master makes some important discoveries!**


	17. The Talk

_I don't own Harry Potter_

_Well, there isn't much to tell, only that this chapter will hopefully move the plot forward quite a bit as Severus makes some important discoveries. I haven't forgotten about the sorting hat or Dumbledore or Snape visiting Dr Green and/or Petunia or the matter with Ron and the Slytherins, all these things will be addressed in future chapters, I just never thought this story would turn out this long and complicated!_

_Thanks to everyone who reviewed!_

* * *

**Chapter 17 - The Talk**

.

"_What_?" Harry asked, completely bewildered.

"The question isn't that hard, Potter, even a Gryffindor like you should be able to answer it!" Severus snapped.

"But... what do you mean, what happened with muggles? I thought you would teach me how to make all that stuff with that wand-thing! You've promised!" Harry was hurt. So the professor was just like anyone else and wouldn't keep his promise. It had been stupid of him to imagine otherwise!

"Potter, I appreciate that you are willing to learn how to perform magic correctly but now you will tell me everything about your life with your relatives and any other muggle you might have encountered while staying with them! I won't have you distracting me by whining about your ineptitude to cast simple spells!"

"You will help me, then?" He almost didn't dare to hope. Perhaps, _perhaps_...

"Yes. I promised, didn't I? But not now!"

"When?" Harry demanded. He had to make sure. He wouldn't risk being betrayed by that man. He seemed to be all right – well, at least better than any other adult he had encountered so far. He wasn't exactly _nice, _but he seemed to listen to Harry. He had asked him questions and hadn't locked him up even when Harry had said something freakish. And he had given Harry his medicine when no one else would do it.  
But why did he want to know about Harry's time with his relatives? There wasn't anything special about it, was there? And surely he knew how freaks like him were treated by the doctors? So why kept he insisting on Harry telling him everything all over again?

Severus eyed the boy carefully. He could sense that it would mostly depend on his answer to Harry's question whether he would get useful information out of the boy. "If you answer my questions satisfactorily, you may come to my office tomorrow evening at six o'clock and I will help you with your magic." There. That had been nice and clear and impossible to be misunderstood, hadn't it?

Severus observed Harry. He seemed to consider his answer. "OK."

Phwe, apparently, he had said the right thing. Expectantly, he waited for the boy to start babbling about those muggles. He didn't, though."Mr Potter, I believe I have asked you a question...?"

"Oh, uh, yes..." Harry hurried to obey, "ehm... but what do you want to know?"

"Everything, Mr Potter." Snape said, exasperated, "When was the first time you had to go to a doctor and why? When have you started taking medicine? What other treatments have you received? How did your relatives react to your illness, and did they ever try to contact a wizard? Just tell me everything."

"Uh... I have gone to Dr Green since I was really little. I don't know... almost forever! But at first I didn't take medicine. Only after I had to stay at the hospital. At first, I was in a real hospital, because the demon had really hurt me. Later, they brought me to the ward where Dr Green worked. I had to stay there for a really long time! This was when I started to take medicine. I didn't want to, but they made me anyway..." Harry shuddered. He didn't like to think back to those times, even so he didn't actually remember very much. "Uhm, well, later I was allowed to go back to the Dursley's again. Dr Green had suggested that I should go to a home for people like me, but Aunt Petunia was really nice and made sure I was allowed to go back to Privet Drive! But then the demon made me stop eating. It was terrible, you know, because I was really hungry all the time but couldn't eat anything! Well, I tried, but it was really difficult. I had to be quick and swallow the food before the demon could make me spit it out. Mh, I had to go back to the ward a short while later... they put a tube in my nose because they said I needed to eat. But I couldn't eat! The demon didn't allow it! The tube was really nasty. Did you ever have a tube that went through your nose into your stomach?"

Severus had been tempted to interrupt the boy several times. He had refrained from doing so, though, thinking that it would be the best to just let the boy tell as much as possible of his own. But what, for Merlin's sake, had happened during the last ten years?! Hospital? Demon? Sending Harry away from Privet Drive? Medical procedures Severus didn't even want to think about?

"No, Mr Potter. I never had such a... thing. And I can't imagine why someone – doctors even – should do something like this to their patients! Surely there are other methods to treat someone who is unwilling – or unable – to eat? How often exactly did you stay in that hospital? And why didn't your Aunt take you home as soon as she learnt what they were doing there?!"

"Mh, Dr Green said I was really ill. I don't think Aunt Petunia would have wanted me at Privet Drive then. I mean, what if the demon would have hurt her or even Dudley?" Again, Harry shuddered. Aunt Petunia might have simply locked him up if the demon had done something to her son, but Uncle Vernon? Somehow, Harry doubted he would have been able to avoid hospital if Uncle Vernon had learnt that the demon – and therefore Harry, even if the boy in question didn't really understand why and how – had hurt his precious son. "And they took me in again when I was better. The medicine, you know, the one that the doctor-witch didn't want to give me, it is supposed to fight the demon. They said that it was in my head, and therefore I had to take the medicine so that it could fight the demon. Before I started taking it, the demon did really mean things like smashing my head against the wall! Well, I didn't remember, really, but Dr Green told me... this is why I mustn't forget to take it!"

"Mr Potter, what 'demon' is this you are referring to?" Severus mind went in overdrive. Yes, in the wizarding world, there were many... beings muggles considered to be mythical creatures, pure imagination. But demons? He had never heard of those, and his knowledge about dark creatures couldn't be considered poor. Perhaps the boy had encountered someone – or something – else and, not knowing what it was, simply called it a 'demon'? But hadn't Dumbledore said that he had left Harry with his relatives because of the protection they would provide? It wasn't possible that a dark creature had made it into the Dursley's home and hurt Harry not only one but several times, was it? Of course, _if _something dark had made it into the Dursley's household and hurt the child, and if said child had told the doctors about a strange creature that wasn't supposed to even exist, it was quite possible that they had thought he had imagined things, had had hallucinations, and therefore considered him mentally ill. But it wasn't possible. Or at least someone – Dumbledore – would have noticed, with all the wards he had added, in addition to the blood-wards. He wouldn't have risked Harry's life, would he?

"Just the demon. Mh, he's in my head. Yeah. I don't really know why, but Dr Green explained that it wasn't a real demon, but that my mind was sick. And because of this sickness, my mind kept seeing and hearing things that aren't real. I don't know whether to believe him or not, though... if the demon wasn't real, he would have never been able to hurt me, would he? But he did! Here," and Harry pushed his hairs on one side of his head away, "this is where he smashed my head against the wall in my cupboard."

Severus gapped. The scars on the side of the boy's head were rather long and it was clear that the original wounds had been rather serious. No wonder he hadn't noticed them before, though, who would look for other scars on the Boy-Who-Lived's forehead than the one and only lightning-bolt shaped one? But honestly, the famous scar was nothing compared to those Harry was currently showing him.  
But something else in the boy's speech had caught Severus attention. "What do you mean, your cupboard? Did this... thing made you climb into your wardrobe?"

"No, my cupboard where I slept. I-"

"Why did you sleep in a cupboard?!"

"Uhm, my relatives gave it to me... and I really like it! Well, when I was little, I sort of wished that they would allow me to sleep in a real bed like Dudley, but later when they had tied me to the bed on the ward I thought it was a really good thing that they had given me the cupboard instead of a room! Of course, after that letter came I had to move into Dudley's second bedroom..."

"Your mean... are you telling me that you have lived in a _cupboard_?"

"Yes. My cupboard under the stairs."

"But-" Severus was speechless. How dared those muggles to deny a child such a basic thing like a bed?! But, he had to remind himself, this wasn't why he had wanted to interrogate the child. At least not this time. Oh, this would be discussed, and in any case, he would have words with Albus about this matter – or perhaps better Minerva? After all, the witch had promised to support him when it came to Harry's placement with those awful muggles, and the more Severus learnt about the whole business, the more he doubted that the headmaster was quite as innocent as the old man pretended to be, "Ha- Potter! So you lived in a cupboard, yes?"

"Yes. But I had to move out. I really miss it."

The boy seemed almost.. dejected. But why should he feel sad about it? Surely moving out of a cupboard into a real bedroom was something to be happy – if not overjoyed – about? "So.. why - Wait," the potion master interrupted himself, "what did you say about someone tying you to a bed?" _Surely _the muggles hadn't been this depraved. Had they?

"Yes. In hospital. They-"

"They tied you to a bed in a _hospital_?"

"Yeah. Because of the demon. He couldn't hurt me when I was tied to the bed. I didn't like it, though. It's really mean when all the adults hold you down and tie you up... please I don't want to talk about it!"

"But... _they tied you to a bed?_ When was this? I thought muggles had stopped torturing wizards!" They couldn't have started hunting down wizards and witches again, could they? If this would have been the case the ministry, the ICW, _someone_ must have learnt of it! No, and hadn't the child said something about his aunt insisting not to tell the doctors anything about the wizarding world (even so, if the boy was to believed, she had expressed it in slightly... different term)?

"Uh... I don't know whether it was because me being a wizard. Have all wizards demons in their heads?"

"Wha- of course not, Mr Potter, there aren't such creatures like demons, least of all in a person's head! But answer my question, when was it that they tied you to a bed?"

"Uhm, after the demon had smashed my head against the wall. Dr Green told me that it could have killed me. I don't know... it's good it hasn't, isn't it? Well, the demon didn't think so... doesn't think so. He wants to kill me, I think... At least this is what he keeps saying. The medicine is supposed to make him stop though..."

"All right, and it was only this one time after this- this demon tried to kill you, yes?" Perhaps, if it had only been a one-time incident, it wasn't this bad, but more like an emergency measure until they could calm the boy – or the demon? - down?

"Eh, no. This was the first time. But please I really don't want to talk about it..." Harry was getting quite agitated. If he wouldn't stop thinking about all the times they had forcibly thrown him onto a bed and tied him up soon, he would have another one of those panic-attacks. Already, he felt his breathing becoming more and more irregular.

"Mr Potter, I need to know exactly what has happened and why! How else do you think I can find means to help you and to... correct your placing with those muggles?" Because there was no way he would let the boy return to a place where he obviously had been mistreated and Merlin knew what else!

"But... but I don't know! They just came running every time the demon had hurt me and seized me and threw me onto a bed and then they had straps and tied up my arms and legs and sometimes also my belly and then they gave me injections and everything was fuzzy, I don't really know... NO - DON'T – TALK – 'BOUT – NOO!"

###

Severus would never really understand what happened next.

The child was clearly in distress, and he had just been about to summon a calming draught when he sensed the presence of a foreign force in the room – as if someone (or something) quite powerful tried to invade his mind. Legilimency!

Spinning around, heart racing, he scanned the classroom for the intruder. Nobody seemed to be there. But then – cold fear swept over Severus. He was back. No. The Dark Lord – at Hogwarts?! In his quarters?! This – it just wasn't possible!  
But who else would be powerful enough to perform Legilimency on _him_ and almost succeed in entering his mind?! Not even Dumbledore had ever managed to enter Severus mind without his consent! But _how?  
_Yes, he had been quite sure that some day, He would come back. But now, at Hogwarts, without so much as a warning? The potion-master had expected to be able to tell in advance when it would happen, feeling it through the unfortunate connection he had with – Him, or else hearing rumours from certain people he associated with only for this very purpose!

But it didn't matter how and why and when, not now. Reason chimed in, and Severus had hardly ever been this glad that he was able to think rationally and act quickly even in life-threatening situations. He was alone, in a room with the boy-who-lived himself. The first thing he needed to do was to make sure the boy was safe, then he had to summon Albus and - "HARRY!"

###

Harry had tried. He really had tried to stay calm, to breath slowly and deeply just how Dr Green had taught him to do whenever a panic-attack was approaching. But the professor just wouldn't stop talking about him being tied up. Why didn't he listen to Harry's attempts to tell him that he couldn't talk about those things, why kept he insisting on knowing every detail?  
Already, Harry could feel the hands of many much bigger people upon his skin, cold feel how they were pulling him from the ground, carrying him away, not listening to his screams and please to leave him alone, and then he was put down onto a bed and hands held him down, he couldn't fight, he couldn't breath, there were people everywhere and they grabbed him and held him and now the demon was laughing, laughing because mere muggles would do his job, and Harry himself was laughing now – was he? And then he could feel the demon trying to tear his mind apart, it hurt, oh, it hurt so much, and they wouldn't stop – the demon, the hands, no, he had to fight, but he couldn't move, he couldn't lift his hands, but he had to, he had to seize this thing out of his head!

###

Severus didn't know what to think. The boy – Harry – had he some sort of fit?! And – how was this possible?! He was an eleven year old child with practically no magical education, least of all mind magic! And yet the force that pricked and pulled on Severus' Occlumency-shields clearly came from the boy's mind – something wasn't right here. No child should be able to even scratch on his shields! But if it wasn't the boy's own doing, who else could it be? Had someone imperiused him when he had visited Diagon Alley and was now trying to attack Severus by using Harry? But even Hagrid must have noticed if someone had attacked Harry during the few hours the two of them had spent in Diagon Alley! Hell, even if the oaf hadn't, it just wasn't possible to cast an Unforgivable on the Boy-Who-Lived himself in the midst of one of the most crowded places in magical Britain with no one being any the wiser!

There was only one way to find out what was going on.

Concentrating fiercely, the potion-master forced the _thing _that tried to invade his mind away and made sure that his shields were still in place and hadn't sustained any damage. When he was reasonably sure that he had enough control of his own mind to be able to attack, he hissed "Legilimens!" and reached out for the boy's consciousness.

A few moments, he wasn't sure whether he would be able to even find Harry's mind. Somehow, everything seemed to be charged with a strange sort of energy. Finally, Severus managed to sense the boy in the centre of what could only be described as a mental whirlwind.

There was hardly any defence when he breached the barrier that separated Harry's mind from the outside world.

For a few seconds, myriads of images, emotions, ideas and thoughts drummed against his own consciousness. There were people in white closes towering around him, some of them holding him down while one of them forced something into his mouth. Fear and terror seemed to be the most prevalent emotions. A man that's face was inches away from his own, the man's mouth moving rapidly, but no sound could be heard. The noise of an iron door falling shut, followed by the jangling of keys. A green light soaring his way. Screaming. Then, a pain so intense that Severus briefly thought whether the Dark Lord had cast the Cruciatus-curse on the one-year-old Harry Potter before he had tried and failed to kill him. And through all of this, there was a menacing voice – it couldn't be human, could it? - that promised the most gory death.

Then, suddenly, everything stopped and Severus found himself knee-deep in some sort of black, sticky mud. What was _this_?

Looking around, he noticed that the mud wasn't only on the floor – well, as far as you could call it floor, being inside someone else' mind – but practically everywhere. It covered the surfaces and stinking, glutinous clouds of it wafted through the air.

It was as if everything had become paralysed. Just a few seconds ago, Harry's mind had seemed to be on the brink of collapsing under the stress of all the confusing images, thoughts and memories and the noise had been almost unbearable. Now, however, it was eerie silent. Nothing seemed to move. Only now and then a thought or memory floated by – strangely distorted, as if they were about to dissolve and merge with the mud. Severus himself felt as if his mind was working in slow motion. It had never been more difficult to think clearly. The mud – but was it mud? It was mucous and practically reeked of decay – made it difficult to stay focused. It almost felt as if this... stuff was trying to pull everything it could seize into its hungry depths. The potion-master wasn't sure what would happen if it – but who or what was 'it'? There shouldn't be anything in the boy's mind besides his own consciousness! Well, what would happen if it actually succeeded, and he was quite sure he didn't want to find out either.

But what was the mud doing here, in Harry's mind? Where had it come from, what was its purpose?! And how was it possible that the boy was still able to function properly (well, almost properly)!? The mud caused Severus Snape, one of the most proficient wizards there were when it came to mind magic, to feel completely out of control – as if someone had switched of any reason and left him with only the ability to breath and just, well, exist.

How could the mind of a child survive something like this!  
He had to leave this place, and quickly. He didn't know what would happen if he wouldn't, and he wasn't prepared to take any chances. Merlin knew what this was.  
He was reluctant to leave the boy – Harry – alone in this dreadful environment, but he couldn't help the child if he couldn't think, couldn't figure out what that sludge actually was and how to get rid of it.

Severus tried to turn around – when had it become so difficult to move? - and was shocked when he discovered that the usual light that normally indicated the place you had entered someone's mind – and therefore the place you had to return to in order to leave it, too – wasn't there.

Looking around, he noticed that there wasn't any light. Only clouds and puddles of black mud. What was he supposed to do _now_?

Just when the potion-master decided to walk in the direction of an area where the slime didn't seem to be quite as thick as everywhere else, he sensed the very force that had led to him invading Harry's mind in the first place.  
As quickly as the mud let him, he spun around and caught sight of a dark shadow – even darker than the mud – that hovered at the edge of the part of Harry's mind that was visible to Severus. It seemed to come nearer and nearer, though, and the pull on Severus own mind became stronger by the minute.

This wasn't good. Every single account Severus had read about battles of two equally strong Legilimences that took place in the mind of one of the participants head's had ended with (at least) one of the two of them becoming a mental cripple. And while he was fairly sure that whatever that force, that shadow was, he would win a trial of strength, it would be foolish to risk his – and perhaps more importantly, Harry's – sanity.  
No. There was only one way left. It might hurt the boy – well, it _would_ hurt the boy – but in the end, it was safer than searching for an exit for hours, all the while an unknown threat was looming in the background.

"Occluderis!*" Severus shouted, while he pictured himself outside Harry's mind. He felt how the surrounding space narrowed. An instant later the edges of Harry's consciousness almost suffocated him and then he was seized by a feeling similar to apparating – only much, much worse.  
After several horrible seconds in which he couldn't breath, he felt the space widen again.  
Then, suddenly, he was on his feet, standing in the middle of his classroom, panting and sweating and feeling nauseous. He was tempted to sit down – Where were the stones? The floor seemed to be made of rubber – but just then he caught sight of a swaying and staggering Harry Potter.

"Harry!" He managed to reach the pitifully moaning boy just before he fell down. Severus felt for his pulse and was relieved when it was only slightly faster than normal. Briefly, he thought of the nice, comfortable sofa in his quarters. Then, however, he decided that it was extremely unlikely that he would made the journey without major accidents – why couldn't the castle stop spinning? - and settled for sitting down on the rough stone floor, pulling Harry with him.

Great. Now he was sitting on the floor of his classroom, feeling worse than he had after most Death-Eater-Meetings, with a whimpering Potter leaning on his side.

"Oooouuuh" Harry groaned. He didn't even try to think about what had happened this time. His head felt like it had been ripped open and filled with lead. Dimly, he noticed the presence of someone else sitting beside him, and then he was violently sick.

"Potter!" Severus huffed. The relief that the boy hadn't thrown up over him was short-lived when he saw that Harry had puked all over himself. Great. And he hadn't even his wand to clean him up.

"Ouh ouh oooooouh... wa- wa'se mad'er?"

"Nothing, Potter, except for both of us currently sitting on the floor of the dungeons, you having vomited all over yourself and me being unable to reach my wand."

"Hu...? Bu' – what?"

"Potter just sit still, your head will be better in a minute," 'Once I have managed to stand up, fetched my wand (that was lying a few feet away from their current position) and summoned you a headache-draught', Severus silently added.

"Hu ? Don' wan' do.. no I'm ti'ed..."

"Yes I know Mr Potter. I assure you you will be able to rest once we have made it out of this classroom." Apparently, the boy didn't have the strength to argue. Instead, he just snuggled – snuggled!? - closer to Severus and seemed to settle for a longer stay on the floor. Well. This wasn't how the potion-master had expected to spend his afternoon.

After five minutes or so, the smell emitting from the boy – well, from the vomit that covered his clothes – became almost unbearable and with his last ounce of strength, Severus crawled the few feet towards his wand that had fallen on the ground when he had forced his way out of the boy's mind. Well, after he had made sure that Harry's upper body rested against the side of the teacher's desk, that was. Since when did he care whether Potter was halfway comfortable? Instead of thanking him for his effort, though, the boy – typical Potter - whined at the loss of bodily heat next to him.

"Noooo... don' leaw... noo..."

"Potter!" He snapped back, "I will be right back, but you smell worse than- well, quite disgusting and I need my wand to clean you up. And didn't you want something to ease your headache, too?"

"Mmmfff..."

No wonder the boy wasn't particularly... talkative. It was a miracle that he was even semi-conscious after the means Severus had had to employ to leave his mind. It was one thing to enter (and leave) a mind through a carefully crafted connection, but a completely different one to use sheer force. However, he hadn't really had much of a choice... damn, why did he even feel guilty about this? It wasn't _his _problem if the boy was in pain, he was only doing this because nobody else throughout the bloody castle was capable of finding out what was wrong with Potter and how to cure it! It wasn't as if he had begged for the job! No, it was Poppy's – and Albus'! - fault that he (and Harry) were in the whole mess, not his!

"Scourgify" He muttered, having reached his wand. Then, he proceeded to summon a headache-draught for the boy and a pepper up potion for himself which he drowned quickly. Aaah. This was much better! "Potter, open your mouth!"  
To his astonishment, the boy didn't even questioned what the bat of the dungeons was about to give him. This wasn't normal, least of all for a Gryffindor who constantly suspected their potion-master of having dark plans about killing the whole tower in order to use them as potion-ingredients. As if he would ever use something as brainless as a Gryffindor in one of his potions! Even Flobberworms were smarter!

Well, Severus thought while feeding Harry the potion – obviously, the boy couldn't be trusted to take it on his own, weak as he was – perhaps it was because the boy was used to getting all kind of drugs out of other's people hand? And obviously, he had learned a long time ago that every attempt to fight against it was futile, if the things Severus had seen in his mind – before the mud had extinguished everything - were anything to go by.

"Uh, thank you, Sir!" Harry offered. Wow. This had to be the first time he felt _more_ alert after taking medicine than he felt before! "Um, but what's- I mean... why are we sitting on the floor?"

"I hoped you might be able to explain what has just happened?"

"Uh... no." Harry blinked. What a strange question. Didn't the professor know that if you got confused it often was difficult to remember? "I'm sorry!" He added, having seen the man's scowl.

"You have done nothing wrong – for now! - so you have nothing to apologize for, you stupid child! Tell me, what is the last thing you remember before sitting on the ground?"

Unconsciously, Severus had seated himself next to the boy again, providing Harry with a welcome opportunity to rest his head against the man's shoulder.  
It was so nice! With the Dursley's, nobody had ever hugged him or even sat as close as the professor was sitting now, and the nurses and even Dr Green had only touched him when holding him down or giving him injections. Nobody had ever just... well, been there. Close. Harry thought it was rather comforting to have the professor sitting next to him, close enough to lean his head against him, especially now that he felt rather awful (although it was much better than before he had taken the medicine!). And now the man even put a hand on Harry's right one! Well, it might only be because he had been about to make a hole in the classroom-floor with the constant drumming of his fingers (a habit he had developed during the long and lonely times he had been tied up and not able to move otherwise), but still, it was nice. Somehow, it made Harry feel warm inside.

"Um, you were talking..." Harry began, unsure what exactly the professor wanted to know. "About the ward and everything..." his voice dropped. He hoped the man wouldn't make him talk about all those horrible things again. "I don't know much more... I panicked, I think. I tried to calm down, I really tried, but... well, I don't think I've managed..." He was such a coward! Nobody else was afraid of talking about hospitals! "Um, is this why you had to give me medicine?"

"Potion, Mr Potter, it's potion. And no, this isn't why I had to give you a headache-draught. Somehow, you-" Severus interrupted himself. What should he tell the boy? That he had sensed a foreign being in his head? That something dark might lurking around in his consciousness? That a force that, when it came to mind-magic, was almost equally strong as the potion-master was, had somehow... possessed him? And what about all that mud? Did the boy know about it?

He decided that, for now, he would tell as few as possible, in the hope that Harry would offer his own explanations. He wouldn't lie, though. "You, or, well, something in your head seems to have drawn me into your mind. It's a very special branch of magic, nothing that is taught at Hogwarts, but it isn't dark or dangerous - normally," he hurried to explain, not wanting to scare Harry further. "And, well, unfortunately, I had to use rather... unorthodox means to end the connecting. This is why you are in pain and were sick."

"You mean – _you were in my head?_" Harry gapped.

Severus huffed. First-years! "It's not that simple, Mr Potter! You can't enter another being's head! It's the mind that we are talking about, and anyway, it's not as if you simply walk into someone's mind. There are spells that create a link and then the spell-caster might – might! - be able to connect his own mind with the one of the other person and... well, but that might be too difficult to explain.

Yes, then, I think – at least for now – you could say that I was 'in your head'."

"Then- have you seen the demon?!" Harry was amazed. Wow! Perhaps the professor could help him to fight the demon, if he could just go into Harry's head! Dr Green hadn't been able to do this! Sure, the medicine he had prescribed Harry had made it a bit easier for him to fight the demon, but still, he had been on his own when it came to actually battling against that terrible thing.

"What!?" Severus was shocked. _That _was the demon Harry kept referring to? It was something inside the boy's own head?! "You mean... that- that _thing _has hurt you?"

"Yes," Harry knew it might be... greedy to request something like this – after all, it wasn't the professor's problem if that creature kept hurting him – but he just couldn't refrain from asking the man. After all, maybe, _maybe_... "If you can go inside my head, will you help me fighting it?

* * *

_*Occluderis (lat.) ~ you are closed off / you are locked up_

**Next Chapter: Severus and Harry continue there talk, McGonagall enters the picture and something goes wrong in the hospital-wing...**


	18. The demon is real And powerful

_I don't own Harry Potter_

_This chapter is a bit shorter than normally, but I thought it would be a good point to stop. Hope you'll like it, and thank for all the reviews, favourites and alerts!  
_

* * *

**Chapter 18 - The demon is real. And powerful  
**

.

Severus felt sick. He had read quite a bit about mental illnesses in general and psychoses in particular by now, but non of the books had said anything about an actual foreign... well, what? Presence? Being? - in the patient's head. Although, he had to admit, since he himself had only accidentally discovered that... thing by using Legilimency, it was unlikely that muggles had ever noticed it.

Thinking about it... it had clearly been this... being... that had reached out for Severus own mind, apparently while Harry himself had had a panic-attack or something similar. But then... only a magical being could have done this. No muggle – or muggle-illness or anything that wasn't somehow connected to a magical being – could have intruded, or at least tried to intrude, a wizard's mind.

That, however, left only two possible conclusions. Either all people who had been diagnosed with psychosis had been... well, 'possessed' by some sort of unknown magical being or Harry wasn't psychotic at all.

And even Severus Snape, who had seen his fair share of dark and darkest things, both in the wizarding and in the muggle world, had to admit that it seemed... unlikely that over centuries – or more correctly millenniums (since the first reports of something akin to psychoses dated back to a time long before even the founders of this very school had been born) wizards – or any other magical beings – had hexed muggles so that they appeared to be ill, insane. No, this didn't add up. If wizard's or other creatures known to the wizarding world had been responsible for this, surely some people must know about it? But not even the Dark Lord – or anyone of his followers – had ever referred to a conspiracy against muggles that had begun ages ago!

But then... could it be that Harry suffered from something they normally dealt with at St Mungo's? Some sort of mind damage caused by magic? Or indeed possession? But _how_? And perhaps more importantly, _who_? If everything Albus had said was true, the boy hadn't had contact with any magical being – well, apart from that squib – until the previous summer. Either Albus was lying – which wasn't a very far-fetched assumption, Severus thought – or the wards that were supposed to keep Harry safe had been all but useless and someone (or something) from their world had found him and... done something to him.

Or... but that couldn't be, could it? It just wasn't possible that it had something to do with That Night... the night the boy's parents had died. No.

###

The longer the professor was silent, the more dejected Harry became. He should have known better than to ask such a thing! As if anybody would voluntarily go into Harry's crazy head where that evil thing kept lurking around!

He had hoped the professor might be different, yes. Well, perhaps he even was! After all, he did listen to Harry, and he really seemed to be interested in what Harry said. He didn't act as if he knew everything and didn't make Harry feel like a stupid, worthless, crazy little kid. But then, even if he was different, it didn't mean that he wouldn't be disgusted by actually _seeing _Harry's demon. Dr Green had never seen it (at least as far as Harry knew), and even he had said that he would be happy if the demon went away!

Perhaps he should apologize? Mostly, apologizing was a good thing. If you had offended people, they would be less likely to shout at you, and if you hadn't, they would just tell you that you didn't need to apologize. Yes, if Harry apologized, perhaps Professor Snape would still be friendly and forget the unseemly question Harry had asked!

"Ehm, Professor? I'm sorry... I didn't mean to ask something like this, I know that nobody would want to deal with the demon, I really just... well, I'm really sorry I asked such a stupid thing!"

Severus snapped out of his thoughts. What was the boy babbling about? Oh. Perhaps it hadn't been smart to let Harry wonder whether he was actually thinking about his request. "Stop apologizing, Potter, I _will _help you. Yes, I certainly will!"

"You... you _will?_" Wide-eyed, Harry looked at his professor.

"Of course I will! I have already said so, didn't I? I must admit I haven't considered the possibility that the - demon, you call it? - might actually be... well, somehow 'real', but the fact that it is – or seems to be - only emphasize the importance of someone competent helping you getting rid of it!"

"You will help me?_ Really?"_

"Potter! Pay attention! I have said so, and I don't tend to make promises I don't intend to keep! Now, but what about all that mud in your head?"

"Mud?" Harry asked, blankly.

"Yes. All of your mind seems to be contaminated by it. I have never seen something like this before. Care to explain?"

"I don't know, Sir... I don't know about mud. I'm sorry..."

"Hmph." But Severus had to admit that it wasn't really surprising that Harry didn't know about the mud. Sensing a foreign force inside one's own head was one thing, but that mud... if you had never practised Occlumency, it was unlikely that you knew about something like this being in your head. Harry might just have perceived it as being drowsy, unable to think and move and act like he wanted to. And if the mud had been there long enough, it was quite possible that the boy thought all of this was normal!

###

Suddenly, there was as sharp knock on the door and both Severus and Harry startled.

"Severus Snape, you will open this door at once or I will blast it away!"

Severus groaned. Oh no. He wasn't prepared to deal with an angry McGonagall just now. However, a glance at the clock that hung above the door confirmed that it had already been more than an hour since he had banned the Weasley-boy from the classroom. No wonder he had gone to find his head of house in order to rescue Potter from the bat of the dungeons. Sighing, he pointed his wand at the door – he didn't yet feel like standing up, and it wouldn't do for the transfiguration-professor to witness him staggering and swaying through the classroom – and it banged open.

"Severus Snape, what is the meaning of-" Minerva stopped, completely astounded. Of all things she had expected to find, this wasn't one of them. When the newest Weasley had come into her office, red-faced and panting from running up all those stairs, and begged her to rescue Harry because "Snape has trapped him and now he's probably about to kill him in order to brew potions with the organs of the boy-who-lived himself" she had thought that the potions-master – insensitive as he was – was interrogating the poor boy about his previous life and everything that could help to solve the mystery about the mesin-stuff and everything else.  
She had expected to find a tearful Harry and an annoyed Snape and had been prepared to tell the bat that he should leave her lion alone and that _she (_together with Poppy) would find out what had happened to Harry and how to help him. Oh, she had cursed herself for even _thinkin_g about asking Severus to help Harry! He would only torment the boy further, and even if she understood the animosity the man held against Potter senior, she wouldn't let Harry pay the price for James' misbehaviour!

So when she saw Severus Snape sitting on the ground – which was a rather odd sight in itself – with Harry Potter next to him, the transfiguration-professor wasn't sure whether this was some kind of strange dream. And Harry, she noticed, didn't seem to be uncomfortable or intimidated at all but – it couldn't be, could it? - the boy was _leaning _on Severus! And her colleague even allowed it!  
Both of them looked exhausted, though, and Minerva, completely at a loss for what to say, simply gapped.

"Will you shut the door, woman!" Severus snapped, annoyed. It was worse enough that Minerva saw him like this, he didn't need anyone else witness his embarrassment.

"What the-" Minerva caught herself. It wouldn't do to swear in front of a student. "I must admit I'm quite curious how it comes that you and a first-year are sitting on the floor of the dungeons although classes are long over and dinner has already started... What is going on, Severus?!"

"Will you just shut the door!? And _properly_!" Severus wasn't sure whether a Gryffindor – even if it was the head of house – was smart enough to figure out that shutting a door properly included setting up silencing-spells, but he was surprised. Again. It wasn't as if the annoying Gryffindor currently sitting practically in his lap (and who seemed to be on the verge of falling asleep) hadn't surprised him already.

After Minerva had closed and warded the door to Severus satisfaction, he saw no further reason to delay the inevitable discussion and started to tell the increasingly agitated head of Gryffindor what he had discovered during the last one and a half hours. Not everything, of course. He didn't think it was necessary for the boy's head of house to know every tiny detail of what Severus had seen in his mind and about the things they had discussed. No. Using Legilimency – particularly on a child – was a rather sever violation of privacy in itself (even so he hadn't meant on using it on the boy) and he wouldn't tell anything that wasn't strictly necessary.

"So, you mean," Minerva asked when Severus had arrived at the point where the transfiguration-professor had interrupted them, "you mean to tell me that Harry was in a hospital and that these muggle-healers gave him potions because a wizard meddled with his mind? But - Albus said that he only put Harry with his relatives because no one would be able to harm him if he stayed with them!"

"I know," Severus answered wearily, "and I didn't say that anyone has attacked him while he stayed with those muggles. I'm not even sure whether this... thing in his head is indeed something created by magic. It might just be something that feeds on the boy's own magic, or some kind of mental illness only wizards can get or a normal muggle psychiatric disorder that causes these specific symptoms because of Harry being a wizard... I don't know, Minerva, but at least I have a clue at what to search for now."

"And you're sure it wasn't _you _who entered Harry's head? I'm not an expert when it comes to these sort of things, but it's quite... remarkable for an eleven-year-old to lure one of the most skilled Legilimences there are into his head, isn't it?" Despite Harry's obvious contentedness with the current situation (he had indeed fallen asleep while Severus had been telling Minerva what had happened), she was still suspicious.

Severus huffed. Not only that he didn't like being wrongly accused of lying, but apparently not even grown-up Gryffindors knew the difference between "head" and "mind". No wonder hardly anyone of that bunch was proficient in mind-magic! "Yes, I'm quite sure, Minerva! Didn't you listen to what I just have told you?! If it hadn't been for this... incident I would have never thought that the demon the boy keeps talking about might be more than a cry for attention or perhaps some kind of hallucination! That thing is powerful, magically powerful! And I don't think it would be in the boy's best interest if it remained in his mind! I don't know what to do about it yet – I don't know if there _is_ anything that can be done – but I will find out and I expect you not to interfere with the way I choose to deal with this – or the boy!"

"But surely you can't mean-"

"You can always go to Albus if you don't trust me!"

"Hmph." Minerva didn't deign to respond to this. Even so Severus hadn't said it directly, the transfiguration-professor was well able to deduce from what he _hadn't _said that their employee had – at best – neglected his duty to ensure Harry was healthy and truly unharmed after that fateful Halloween. And she knew Albus well enough to know that it was rare that he simply 'forgot' things. No... if the old coot was planning something involving Harry, it was unlikely that he would listen to her concerns. "OK. Let's pretend I agree to letting you handling Harry and everything, what exactly are you planning to do?"

"Well... first of all, the boy needs to see Poppy." He glanced down at the child next to him. Yes. The medi-witch clearly hadn't cast one of the more thorough spells on the boy when she had determined that there wasn't anything seriously wrong with him. Not only that, but he wanted the healer to strip down the boy to make sure there wasn't anything else they had missed so far and it wouldn't hurt to scan Harry for any residual effects from all those drugs either. Sure, some disorders of the mind couldn't be detected by the means a healer normally employed. It would be Severus' job to search for that kind of things. But on the other hand, the medi-witch might (if she examined the boy carefully and not just in a rush) find things Severus wouldn't. He wasn't a healer, after all.

"Very well. I certainly won't disagree with _that. _After all, it's not normal for an eleven-year-old child to fall asleep in the middle of the day." She pointedly glanced at Harry who was snoring against Severus shoulder. "Who knows how this mind-magic has affected him, not to mention those things the muggles have done to him!"

"Exactly. Then I think it would be prudent to have regular meetings with Ha- the boy. I have already promised that I will help him to figure out what prevents him from casting simple spells. After what I have seen in his head, his inability to perform magic might even have something to do with all that mud in his mind..." Severus stopped. He hadn't had time yet to think properly about this possibility, but it seemed to be obvious. Even the simplest spells required a minimum of concentration, intention and a clear idea of the desired result. It was difficult to imagine that anybody whose mind was stuffed with some sort of (clearly unhealthy) mucous substance could meet those preconditions.

"Well, the boy is likely to insist on those meetings anyway, and it would be wise to find out what's wrong with his magic as soon as possible, given who he is... I don't think it'll be that difficult to question him some more about his previous life, especially about anything that might be related to that... thing."

"All right, but you won't abuse those meetings to hurt Harry in any way! I will ask the boy, Severus, and if I hear any complaint about your treatment of him..."

"While it is nice to see that you care for the welfare of your charges, I would like to remind you that it wasn't me who bullied less... respected students only to have fun!"

Minerva blushed. "I know that I-"

But Severus interrupted her. He didn't want to dwell on old times. "Let's don't talk about those times any more, there are more pressing matters. I only want to make it clear that if I am to do as you asked me to and help the boy, I don't want to justify everything I might do or not do to you. It's not as if this is something that could be corrected by giving Harry (damn! Now Minerva had witnessed his constant slips!) a potion or two, I might have to employ more... unorthodox means to get rid of those things in the boy's head, but I won't purposefully harm him!" He glared at his colleague. When she just swallowed and nodded, he continued. "All right, and I will examine those drugs in more detail. Perhaps I can find out whether it's possible that they have different effects when administered to a wizard."

The two teachers agreed on Severus accompanying Harry to the infirmary. The boy seemed to have developed a liking for his potions-professor and additionally he could tell the medi-witch at what to search for far more precisely than Minerva.

"Potter? Harry!" Why didn't the boy wake up? He couldn't have fallen asleep this deep while sitting on the cold and uncomfortable floor of the dungeons. "HARRY!"

"Mmmmh... wa' th' mat'er?"

"You have to wake up now, Harry, it's rather late and you won't get dinner if you don't hurry up." Minerva gently said.

"Hu?" Confused, Harry looked around, only to discover that he was sitting on a very hard surface, that his bum hurt accordingly and that directly next to him was... "I'm sorry Professor! I didn't mean to fall asleep like that, it's just I couldn't sleep very well last night and-"

"Stop apologizing, Potter! Have you heard what your head of house told you?"

"Uh, yes... I will go to dinner right away." And he started to get up. Ouch! His back hurt, too.

"Potter, wait! Here, take this-" he gave the boy a pepper-up draught, "I don't think you'll manage all those stairs otherwise."

Obediently, Harry swallowed the medicine.

"When you have finished dinner, you will wait until I am ready, too, and then we'll meet outside of the Great Hall. I will accompany you to the hospital wing where Madame Pomfrey will examine you properly. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir!" He wasn't stupid, Harry thought annoyed. "Em, can I... I mean, can you perhaps tell me where the loo is, Sir?" Harry quietly asked, embarrassed. He was glad that Professor Snape was here, though, it would have been far worse to ask the transfiguration-professor.

While Harry attended to his needs, Severus addressed the Minerva again. "I may need to pay a visit to his family. As his head of house, I suppose you are able to access the boy's record and provide me with the necessary details of their current whereabouts?"

"Of course, Severus."

* * *

"Why do I need an examination, Sir?" Harry asked, curiously. It wasn't that unusual for him to have examinations, but he liked to know what to expect. At the ward, there had been different kinds of examinations, after all. Sometimes, they had put strange plugs on his head to determine whether his brain functioned properly (or at least that was what Harry had guessed). Other times, he had to strip and the doctor would poke and prod him, or the nurses would take his weight and blood pressure.

Severus considered his answer. They were on their way to the infirmary to meet Poppy and he had already informed the medi-witch that the first scanning-spell she had cast on Harry had obviously been insufficient and that now she would have to spend her evening re-examine the boy.  
"After what I have seen in your mind, I think it would be prudent to let a healer have another look at you. You don't need to worry, it won't hurt." The Potion Master told the boy who was walking next to him

"I don't worry, Sir."

Just then, the two of them reached the hospital-wing where the medi-witch already waited for them.

"Ah, Severus, Harry! Now, if I have understood correctly, Severus, you think it's necessary that I examine Mr Potter more thoroughly?"

"Yes. Mr Potter, perhaps you can already change in one of those gowns while I tell Madame Pomfrey what to look for?"

"Uh, ok... I don't have to lie down on one of those beds, do I?" Harry asked, worried.

"No, Mr Potter, your exam will take place in the room over there." Severus felt a stab when he was reminded of the boy's fear of sleeping in beds. After what he had seen in his mind, it made a great deal more sense. Briefly, he wondered whether Harry would be able to lie down on the examination-table, but dismissed the though. They would deal with one thing at a time.

He pointed at a door on the other side of the room. "Kindly wait there, we will join you shortly."

"You stay?"

"If you feel more comfortable, I can wait outside the room. However, I need to stay in the hospital-wing since Madame Pomfrey might have certain questions regarding the condition of your mind."

"No, I didn't mean... I would like you to stay with me, Sir..." Harry blushed. He was acting like a baby, wasn't he? The Professor didn't seem to mind, though, he just nodded and Harry took this as a signal to leave the adults to discuss his upcoming examination.

"Poor dear, I wonder whether he actually sleeps in his bed in the dorm..." The medi-witch sighed. "Now, Severus, what exactly was wrong with my scanning-spell that you insist on me examining the boy again, and even right away?!" Poppy didn't like being called incompetent.

"I told you what I have seen in Potter's head! I want you to cast every single spell that somehow determines the state of someone's mind, and then I want you to make sure that the medicine hasn't had any detrimental effects on his mind, his body or his magic – as far as medical means can tell, that is. I'm well aware that certain things can't be detected by the means of a healer, but I won't spend my time figuring out how to help Harry if you doesn't make sure you haven't overlooked something!"

"All right, all right, Severus. You aren't the only one who is worried about Harry, you know..." And with that, the medi-witch left for the room reserved for examining and treating patients in a more privet atmosphere than the large hall that held the beds provided.

###

When Harry had changed into the gown they had given him, he waited nervously. He hoped he wouldn't have to lie down on the table that stood at one side of the room and looked alarmingly like the one Dr Green had. The doctor hadn't been able to convince Harry that nothing bad would happen if Harry lied down, and in the end, he had examined him while Harry was sitting on a stool. But a few times, when he had wanted to palpate Harry's stomach, he had asked a nurse to hold Harry down. No no, Harry didn't want to think of it. Of course, it hadn't been as dreadful as being actually tied to a bed for days and days, but still...

"Ah, Mr Potter," Harry startled when the medi-witch and the potion-master entered. "If you would please lie down on the table..."

He inwardly groaned. "No."

"But – oh well, you might sit on the chair while I'm casting the first few spells but I fear... well, just sit down on the stool, Harry."

Grateful not to have to lie down, the little boy did as he was told.

"Now, just sit still while I cast a few spells on you. You might feel a bit of a tingling, but it won't hurt a bit!"

Harry heard the medi-witch (not doctor-witch, he had learned by now) saying some funny-sounding words and felt the same tingling as he had had when Madame Pomfrey had first cast a spell on him on his very first morning at Hogwarts. He tried to sit as still as possible, but his shoulders just wouldn't obey and kept twitching.

Poppy interrupted her work. "Harry, you have to sit still. The spells doesn't work when you move too much."

"I'm sorry..." He really tried to make his shoulders stop twitching, but the more he tried, the more they twitched. After receiving another stern look from the medi-witch, Harry gave up. "I'm sorry, I really try but they just... I can't keep them still!"

"You need to hold still only for a few minutes, surely this can't be - "

"Perhaps you could move on to the spells that don't require Harry sitting still?" Severus interrupted Poppy. "Considering the drugs he took- eh, takes, it's quite possible that he _is_ unable to exert full control over the movements of his body."

"If you think so..." the medi-witch answered, doubtfully. She had never heard of such a substance. But then, hadn't she asked Severus to help her because he was more knowledgeable about those things? "Mr Potter, I will now cast a few other spells on you. They don't require you sitting still, but it would help if you did. You might feel a bit of a pull on your mind, but it will be over right away."

Harry tensed, he hoped it wouldn't hurt, but still, he couldn't make his shoulders stop twitching. The medi-witch again mumbled some words and waved her wand.

At first, it felt as if something inside him, inside his head, was vibrating. It didn't hurt, but it felt weird. Then, the feeling became stronger and stronger and now it was almost as if someone was ripping on his thoughts, his senses, his very being – Harry though he might be sick if it didn't stop soon. "Stoooooop... please stoooop!"

"It'll be over soon, Mr Potter, just a little bit more, I'm sorry, but-"

"No no no STOOOOP" He couldn't bear it any more, it hurt and his brain seemed to push against his skull, almost as if it wanted to escape... his mind would break, _he _would break if this didn't stop, no longer Harry was sure whether he actually existed... "oh please stooo-" just then, he was violently sick for the second time this day and all his dinner landed on the floor in front of him. Dimly, Harry heard a snapping sound, but he didn't care, he just crouched down and tried to crawl away from the pain, away from the medi-witch.

Poppy felt sorry for the boy in front of her, it really wasn't a nice spell. She hadn't wanted to frighten Harry by telling him that it might feel _very_ uncomfortable, but perhaps it had been better if he had been prepared for what was to come? He was almost screaming by now, but the medi-witch felt that the spell was almost finished, it needed only a few seconds more...

Then, two things happened in very quick succession. Harry had just bent forward and was throwing up on the floor when she felt the spell she had cast on the boy's mind shiver, cracking and then – _her wand snapped in two._

* * *

**Next Chapter: What happened in the infirmary, Harry's first DADA lesson, its consequences and another meeting with the Potion Master  
**


	19. Quirrell and Loony

_I don't own Harry Potter_

_There have been quite some people asking whether Harry or the "demon" caused the destruction of Poppy's wand. However, since answering the question would reveal too much about stuff that is yet to come, I won't reply to this question, well, except for this: Poppy's wand would be perfectly fine if she had cast the spell on any other student (or any other wizard/witch at all)._

_Thank you so much for reading my story, I look forward to reading your reviews!_

* * *

**Chapter 19 - Quirrell and Loony  
**

**.**

All what the medi-witch could do was gaping. Several inches down from the tip, her wand had snapped in two, only a few strands of wood preventing the upper part from falling to the ground. _What the hell had just happened?_

The potion-master had been equally shocked by the sudden turn of events, however, when he noticed Harry slumping down to the ground and crawling into a corner of the room he was roused from his stupor. The boy was more important than a replaceable wand! "Harry!"

Unsurprisingly, the boy didn't give any indication of having heard Severus calling his name but just continued his way into the corner that was underneath the examination-table.  
Save. He had to go somewhere save. Somewhere where it didn't hurt. Away from the pain. Away from the force that wanted to rip him apart. This was worse then the demon, far worse.

"Harry! - HARRY!" When he still didn't get any reaction, Severus did the next reasonable thing. He crossed the room and crouched down, trying to reach the small boy that was now hiding in a corner no normal adult could reach. "Harry! Please, come out! Poppy didn't mean to hurt you, we didn't know that you would react so... violently to this specific spell. I'm sorry, Harry, we shouldn't have done it." Severus was too shocked by what had happened to really register that he was currently comforting a Potter.

Slowly, Harry became aware of someone calling his name. Who was this? Did they want to hurt him again? They couldn't do this, they just couldn't hurt him like this!

"Harry! HARRY! Please come out of there now!"

Harry blinked. There, a few feet away from him, was his Potion Professor kneeling on the ground. The man was clearly speaking to him, but he couldn't understand much of it. His head was filled with a buzzing sound and he felt all shaky and unsteady.

"Harry, can you hear me? Please come out of there so that we can talk properly. Harry?"

"Nohcccchh...chchch..." Harry cleared his throat. "No. You'll hurt me."

"No, Harry, I won't hurt you, I promise."

"Yes. You will. _She -_" He pointed at the few inches of legs that was all he could see from the medi-witch, "she has hurt me!"

"Yes, I know Harry, but she didn't mean to. I asked her to find out what was wrong with your head, she didn't know that you wouldn't be able to handle the spell she used. She is really sorry, too, Harry. There will be no more spells tonight, she won't hurt you again and neither will I." He offered his hand to the boy. Harry eyed it suspiciously for a few moments, but finally he took it and began to crawl out of his hiding-place.  
When Harry emerged from under the table, he looked fearfully at Madame Pomfrey. Would she hurt him again? He'd better leave quickly, before she could cast another one of those terrible spells on him!

Poppy finally snapped out of her daze just when Harry appeared from under the examination-table, holding the Potion Master's hand. "Mr Potter! What – what has just _happened_?"

"I don't know. I want to leave now. I don't stay, no no no, I want to leave!" Harry tried his best to stay calm, but it was rather hard. "I won't let you cast another one of those spells on me! I will beat you if you try and then I will run away!" There. She couldn't have misunderstood that, could she?

"Don't worry, Mr Potter, I won't cast any spell on you, nor on anyone else, for that matter... how-" she interrupted herself, unsure of what to say. Clearly, it hadn't been the boy who had destroyed her wand (how could he have done it anyway?), but the spell that had somehow – incredibly – reacted in such an unforeseeable and violent way to the prolonged exposure to Harry's mind. But even so she doubted that he had any idea as to why this had happened, she couldn't refrain from asking. "Do you have any idea – any idea at all – what has just happened? What caused this... destruction? Or Severus?" She looked at the Potion Master who was standing next to the child, almost as if he wanted to protect Harry...

"No no don't know I want to go!" Harry was almost hysterically by now. Destruction? Madame Pomfrey had destroyed him?!

"Poppy, I don't know what caused this, but I don't think it'll do much good if Harry stays here any longer." He glanced at the distressed boy who was still clinging to Severus' hand. "I think it would be better if he was allowed to go back to his common-room. We can continue the examination later. I -"

"NO NO NO NOT CONTINUING IT! I won't let you hurt me again, NO NO NO!"

"Mr Potter -" but the medi-witch was interrupted by her colleague.

"Harry, we won't hurt you again. I promise. There will be no more spells that might have such an effect on your mind."

"You promise?"

"Yes. Now, would it be all right if I walk you back to your common-room?"

"Mh... yes, Sir."

"Good. Poppy, I'll come back later to... discuss this. I'm not sure... don't tell Albus yet, do you?"

"But why -" Poppy asked, bewildered. Surely this was something the headmaster needed to know? Besides, she would need to inform him that she had to take a day off anyway, in order to purchase a new wand from Asclepius (a wand-maker in Athens, specialized on making wands for healers).

"Just don't tell him! Not yet, anyway. I'll be back shortly, then we can discuss this in more detail! _But until then, don't tell him – or anybody – anything_!"

Poppy sensed the urgency in her colleague's voice, so she didn't argue. "All right – ehm, I think Harry should have a calming draught and perhaps a pain reliever, though..." she was about to summon the potions when she remembered that she couldn't. Well, she had still both of her legs, hadn't she?  
"Here, Mr Potter, you'll feel better after taking these. I apologize for whatever the spell did to you, child, I didn't know... I wouldn't have cast it if I had known that it would cause you such pain." She reached out to hand over the potions.

Harry hadn't paid attention to what was going on – his whole body ached and he just felt dreadful – but suddenly, he saw, out of the corner of his eyes, that the medi-witch reached out for him. He did the only thing that made sense to him – he had to protect himself from that woman! - and struck at her arms.

"Mr Potter!" Poppy exclaimed when the two vials flew across the room and shattered on the ground. "I won't have you wasting my potions! You are to take them, not to throw them to the ground!"

"I DON'T TAKE ANY OF YOUR STUPID POTIONS YOU EVIL WITCH!"

"Mr Potter!" The medi-witch was getting annoyed. She had only tried to help the boy! "You will not -"

"Poppy, I'll give him the potions, I don't think he'll take anything from you just now -" the Potion Master interrupted the angry witch again. While he could understand that she didn't like being called an 'evil witch', he could only shake his head at her thoughtlessness. _Of course _Harry wouldn't take anything from her, not after she had just caused him an immense amount of pain by a mere spell (even if it had been unintentional)! "Harry, come with me, I'll walk you back to the tower." And with that, he left for the door (after a last meaningful glance at Poppy, that was), a clingy, confused and hurt child in tow.

* * *

After he had brought Potter safely back to his tower (where he had been greeted by a rather worried Weasley), Severus returned to the infirmary and explained to the medi-witch why he didn't want Albus to know about what had happened earlier. Well, he tried to explain it, but he was reluctant to reveal too much to Poppy. Of course, she was a healer and worried about Harry's well-being and not likely to do anything to harm the boy, at least not purposefully. But if she though other students might be in danger, she wouldn't hesitate to contact Albus, even if it meant Harry would be sent away.  
Then, however, he needed the medi-witch's support if he really wanted to help the boy. He might be an expert when it came to mind-magic, but it was unlikely that this would be enough, considering the effects those substances Harry used to take could have even on the mind of normal mentally ill people.

"So you think that Harry might somehow be affected by the killing-curse you-know-who cast on him that... that night?" Poppy's voice trembled.

"Yes. Maybe. I don't know for sure, of course, but from what I have seen in the boy's mind... well, it's clearly something dark, and if what Albus says is true and the blood-wards have prevented any dark wizard from harming Potter while he stayed with his relatives, there isn't any other explanation for all this dark, gross mud in his mind. I'm almost certain that the mud is the reason for Harry having difficulties with actually casting a spell..." Severus had decided that the mud was the more pressing matter. Sure, the dark, shadowy force that had drawn him into Harry's mind in the first place was worrisome, too (perhaps even more worrisome, if some of his suspicions turned out to be true), but he needed to carry out more research before he confronted Poppy or Minerva with any of his theories about what it meant... it wouldn't do to risk one of them letting something slip to the headmaster, not when he wasn't sure how much Albus knew... and what he was planning...

"I have already arranged to meet Potter again tomorrow evening. He has asked me whether I could help him with practising magic, I'm sure I'll be able to find out more about the mud and everything else I have sensed in his mind then."

"Yes, this sounds reasonable, Severus... yes... but why do you insist on me not telling Albus about the spell I cast on Harry earlier destroying my wand? Surely-"

"Don't you see, woman?!" The Potion Master barked, "You must know how unusual things like this are, not to mention the power that must be stored in someone's mind to cause the utter destruction of a _wand_! Don't you think that there would be... rumours... if the public came to know about this? Harry doesn't need the 'Prophet' speculating about whether he's a new dark wizard!"

"But Albus wouldn't tell anybody else about it, you know what he thinks about Rita and the whole lot of them!"

"Perhaps. Yes... but I can't help to wonder why he didn't bother to have Harry checked over by a healer or an expert for dark curses after... after that night. I'm not sure, but I don't trust the hold coot to really have _Harry's _best interest at heart. You didn't hear everything he told some of us during the last war..." Severus gulped and tried his best not to think of a certain conversation he and Albus had had shortly after the Dark Lord's downfall. "If he knew about this... well, I just think that I - we should find out more what's going on with Harry before telling him anything."

"I'm not really sure whether to agree with you, Severus, but since Minerva as the boy's head of house and seems to hold a similar opinion – don't look at me like that, she has told me about your little talk and her suspicions regarding Albus! Well, I don't think it would be necessary to tell Albus immediately... perhaps it wasn't due to Harry anyway, my wand was quite old, after all..."

Severus was almost sure he saw the medi-witch wink at him. Well, at least she seemed to be willing to let him do some more research before speaking to Albus again, and if Minerva had confided to her that she mistrusted Albus, too... the transfiguration-professor and the medi-witch were old friends, after all.

Satisfied that he wouldn't have to deal with a nosy headmaster who wanted to exploit the new discoveries Severus had made regarding Harry's mental state for the benefits of the 'greater good' (or who would obliviate Severus because he had found something Albus had wanted to keep a secret) for at least the next few day, the potion-master bid Poppy good night and (finally!) retreated to his quarters. It was quite tempting to go to bed early after the unexpected journey into Potter's mind, but he would need to read a few of his older books, books even Albus didn't know he had, to determine whether that... force in Harry's mind was indeed what he thought it might be...

* * *

Harry was glad it was Friday. Going to school again was nice, but he hadn't though it would be this hard. Not only had he to stay awake for hours and hours, but he needed to focus on what the teachers wanted him to do, whether one of his classmates spoke to him, not to do anything too freakish,... but at least the next two days he would be able to rest.  
He hadn't slept very well, his legs just wouldn't stop twitching and somehow the demon seemed to have gained strength again. If he hadn't hidden his wand under his pyjama-top (in order to have it touch his bare skin the whole night) he probably wouldn't have been able to sleep at all, and who knows what the demon might have done to him... Breakfast was rather taxing, too, as he had to concentrate with all his might in order to prevent the demon from snatching the knife.

The two boy's from his dorm that had kept snickering and giving him odd looks during the last two days looked at him as if they wanted to ask something when Harry pushed his knife at the other side of the table, as far away from his plate as possible, but fortunately they didn't, and just continued whispering to each other. Harry wouldn't have known how to explain to them that he hadn't been allowed to use knives for the last four years or so.

Ron, however, seemed to be oblivious to Harry's discomfort and kept babbling about how he looked forward to finally having DADA. It was true, the Gryffindor first-years would have their first two lessons of defence-against-the-dark-arts directly after breakfast, and Ron held the opinion that it was the coolest subject ever. After all, you learned how to defend yourself from evil wizards – Slytherins – and though he was bothered by the fact that the Slytherins were actually partnered with them for the defence-lessons (how could you learn to defend yourself against your enemy if the very enemy learned exactly the same?), he seemed to think that DADA was the only class really worth studying for.

When Professor Quirrell entered the classroom, Harry immediately felt the demon getting even more restless. At first, he wasn't overly bothered by it, but it got worse as the lesson continued. Even the stuff the professor was talking about wasn't enough to distract him from the increasingly spiteful voice, although he dimly considered that he should probably be worried about learning that vampires, werewolves and trolls were real.

Additionally, Harry's head had started to hurt, or more precisely, the scar on his forehead.

Meanwhile, Ron was severely disappointed by the obvious uselessness of the teacher they had in DADA. He kept stuttering and didn't seem to know more about dark creatures than any children's book could tell. And this man should prepare them for fighting against evil wizards once they had left school and became aurors (as Ron couldn't think of anything else as cool as being an auror)? When he turned to Harry to share his indignation, however, he noticed that something wasn't right. Had Harry already been this pale when they had had breakfast? Ron couldn't really remember, he hadn't paid close attention to anything else except the upcoming lesson and the food.

He leaned over to the other boy and whispered: "Harry? Are you all right? Well, I mean..." Ron broke of. What a stupid question, it was obvious that Harry wasn't ok!

He didn't receive any reply, though, and his worry increased. Over the course of the week, he had noticed that Harry was prone to zoon out, but unlike Ron himself, he seemed to be really frightened by whatever daydreams he had. Oh, Ron day-dreamed frequently, too, especially during lessons, but he never forgot where he was or what was going on. Harry, however, had difficulties to distinguish between his day-dreams and reality, it seemed. Perhaps his mother- oh, no, aunt, of course!- was as good in backing cookies as his own mum was (Ron almost drooled by the mere thought of them)? But then, why should Harry be distressed when thinking about cookies? It didn't make sense!

"Harry!" He hissed. And while Harry still didn't give any sign of having heard him, the know-it-all (who had the habit of sitting in the front row in all of their classes, and since Harry inexplicably tended to do the same, Ron had ended up sitting next to the girl quite often) looked at him scandalized.

"What?" Ron argued. It wasn't as if they were learning anything from this useless teacher! "Harry doesn't look right. He's ill or something – hey, Harry! Harry!"

"Professor Quirrell?"

Oh no. Why did the know-it-all have to draw attention to them? He was only trying to help his friend, for Merlin's sake!

"Professor Quirrell?" The bossy girl waved her hand and seemed to have difficulties to actually keep sitting. "Professor! Professor Quirrell, Sir - "

"W-W-hat?" The professor almost jumped, "y-y-yes, Mrs... eh, G-Granger, you have a question?"

"Professor Quirrell I think Harry's ill! He should go to the hospital wing, I think"

"M-Mr P-P-P-Potter? Ill?"

"Yes Sir, Harry isn't well!" Ron chimed in, scowling at the know-it-all. Not that he really was annoyed with her – it seemed that she wanted to help, after all. But calling a teacher? Everybody could do that! He, Ron, had wanted to help Harry himself! This meant he was a good friend, didn't it?

The boy in question seemed to be oblivious to everything that was going on. He hadn't reacted to the Professor calling his name and just kept staring on the desk, one hand pressed against his forehead.

Ron was about to shake Harry when he saw Professor Quirrell approaching them, apparently in order to do the same. He didn't see exactly what happened next, he thought the teacher had touched Harry's shoulder, but he wasn't sure. Suddenly, however, Harry started to scream as if someone was torturing him and then he bolted from the classroom.

"Eh – I'll go looking for him!" Ron said, before running after his friend.

Quirrell remained standing in front of Harry's desk, frozen. And while the rest of the class kept gawking at the door, Hermione looked at the teacher, frowning.

###

"Harry, hey, Harry! It's me, Ron!" Ron had found Harry leaning on the wall of one of the next corridors, moaning in apparent pain. "Harry... are you... what's happened?"

Harry flinched when someone touched him, again, but this time, the touch didn't cause an unbearable amount of pain. He looked up. "Ron!"

"Hey, mate, what happened?"

"Uh... ' don't know... head hurts..."

"Is this why you ran away? Shall I bring you to the hospital-wing?"

"NO NO... no, not the hospital-wing, please, Ron, please not the hospital-wing...!"

"It's all right mate, I won't force you going there, I wouldn't want to have the nurse bothering me either, my mom is worse enough... but why did you run?"

"I don't know... needed to go away... it hurt so much...Professor Quirrell... don't know... it hurt..."

"Perhaps we should go back to the tower so that you can lie down for a bit? I'm sure Professor Quirrell won't mind, I have told him I would go looking for you... and there are only twenty minutes left anyway... Harry? HARRY NO!"

Harry had known it would happen since their defence-teacher had entered the classroom. Of course, he had tried to fight it, but now, away from the prying eyes of his classmates (well, most of them), and already weakened by the terrible pain he had felt when Professor Quirrell had touched his shoulder, he couldn't keep a curb on the demon any longer.  
It was as if the demon felt that Harry had given up. The next thing Harry knew was that the stone-wall was much too close to his face – he thought he heard Ron yelling his name but he wasn't sure – there was pain, again, oh why did the demon have to target his head, the pain caused by the professor was hardly gone – and then something grabbed him and forced him away from the wall.

"HARRY! ARE YOU MAD?! WHAT DID YOU DO THIS FOR?"

The boy in question looked up, startled. Why did the demon stop after just one single bang? Then he saw Ron, red-faced and a mixture between fury and fear on his face. Great. Now the demon had ruined his first-ever friendship, too. It seemed as if nothing good was allowed for a freak like him.  
It must have been Ron who had pulled him away from the wall, since (fortunately) nobody else seemed to have witnessed what had just happened. Harry couldn't help to be grateful for Ron's interference though, even so the other boy didn't even know that he had just fought against a demon.  
Hopefully, the damned thing would leave him alone now, despite it being interrupted hurting him.

"Ehm..." Harry didn't know what to say. He wasn't keen on telling his ex-best-friend about the demon just now. "I'm sorry... uh, I'm sorry I startled you... well... I just go back to the common-room now..." he turned around, but before he could take more than a few steps, Ron had gripped his arm, again.

"Mate, you should go to the hospital-wing! That's a really nasty bump on your head, and... I don't know... why did you bang your head against the wall like this? It must have hurt awfully!"

"I'm sorry Ron... I'm just a mad freak. I'm sorry I can't be your friend any more..." Harry tried to yank his arm free, but Ron wouldn't let go.

"What do you mean you can't be my friend any more?" Ron demanded.

"You wouldn't want to be friend with a crazy freak like me. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner, I just thought... well, I hoped you wouldn't notice the demon..."

"Why-" Ron stopped. He had been about to ask why he would stop being Harry's friend, but then it occurred to him that Harry might, in this regard, be similar to Luna, Ginny's friend.

Luna was rather odd, too, and she had been convinced that nobody would want to be friends with her just like Harry was! Well, it wasn't that Ron had been very enthusiastic about the girl's visits to the Burrow, sure. But, well, she was _girl_! What guy would want to be friends with a girl?

He hadn't cared about Luna being somewhat... well, loony, though. Ron wasn't sure whether to believe in Witliwutchs or Snarklumps (or however Luna called all of those creatures, Ron wasn't really good with names), but since Luna had assured him that they wouldn't suddenly attack him and that he didn't _need_ to help searching for them if he didn't want to, Ron was fine with her. Ginny, on the other hand, had been thrilled to go on adventures with Luna and had told the girl that she was well able to decide for herself whether to be friends with her or not, and that she wouldn't let anybody – even Luna herself – forbid her to be friends with the blond girl.

Just then, Ron felt Harry trying to get his arm free once again and remembered that he still needed to tell Harry that he wouldn't stop being his friend. "I don't care whether you're loony I won't stop being your friend! No, you and I stay friends no matter what!" Ron declared, hoping that he was doing this right.

"You- what?" Harry asked, bewildered.

"I won't stop being your friend! Do you want me to accompany you to the hospital-wing?"

"Wha-? I don't go to the hospital-wing!"

"But your head-"

"It's nothing! I go back to the common-room... uhm, what do you mean, you won't stop being my friend?"

"Well, that I won't stop being your friend..." Ron answered, uncertain. There was nothing Harry could have misunderstood about that statement, was there?

"But I'm mad! You've seen it, I'm-"

"It doesn't matter, we're friends, so I don't care whether you're mad or loony, we're just friends, OK?!"

"Uhm.. OK..." Harry frowned. Ron was weird. But if he wanted to stay friends with Harry... perhaps it was because the other boy _was_ weird? Well, Harry couldn't force him to leave, could he?

"So... you're sure that you don't want to go to the hospital-wing? I mean, you hid your head quite hard..."

"Yes. No. I mean, no, I don't want to go to the hospital-wing. It's not even bleeding, is it?"

"Eh, no..." Ron didn't know what to think. Had Harry ever hit his head hard enough to draw blood?

"Good. I don't need someone looking at it, then. No, it's all right. So, shall we go back to the common-room then?"

"' don't know, perhaps we should go directly to herbology..."

* * *

The rest of the day went uneventful. After dinner, Harry declined Ron's offer to accompany him to Snape's office and so the red-head went back to the tower on his own, uncertain whether he should feel relieved that he didn't have to face the Potion Master or worried because of Harry doing exactly this. Just when he had sat down in one of the cosy armchairs in front of the fireplace, ready to read one of his beloved Quidditch-magazines (it was weekend, after all), Hermione Granger appeared from behind her pile of books.

"So you're sure Harry is all right, Ronald?" The witch asked.

Ron inwardly groaned. The know-it-all had bothered him and Harry with all kind of funny questions throughout the day! "Yes! He has told me he's all right so you can stop being a nuisance!"

"Well," Hermione sniffed, "I'm sure you must be very interested in what _I_ have seen after _you_ ran out of the classroom, then!"

"Am I?" Ron asked, blankly. What was the girl on about?

"Yes, after all, it's not normal for someone to change eye-colours from brown to red and back again within a few seconds, even if the person is a wizard, isn't it?"

"Harry's eyes changed their colour?! When?"

"Not Harry's! Professor Quirrell's! After you and Harry left, he just kept staring at the place where Harry had sat. Everybody else was busy wondering why the two of you left, but since I was sitting directly in front of the teacher, I couldn't help to notice what happened with his eyes."

"So... Quirrell's eyes changed their _colour_? They got red?"

"Yes. Perhaps someone should tell Professor McGonagall. And I can't quite believe that Harry is all right after what has happened! Any _responsible_ friend would have brought him to the hospital-wing, you know..."

And with that haughty common, Hermione returned to her books, leaving behind a pensive Ron.

Ron had never heard of someone who could just change his eye-colour. Well, except for metamorphmagi, of course. But Quirrell wasn't one of those, was he? After all, if he had the ability to change his appearance at will, why would he choose to look like a complete loser all the time?  
Perhaps he should ask his father... he knew practically everything, so surely he would know whether this was something... worrisome? He could ask McGonagall, too, Ron supposed. But then, he didn't like going to a teacher just like some swot...

* * *

"Mr Potter, you asked whether I would be willing to help you to practice your magical abilities. Now, in order to do so I need to know exactly what causes your problems in the first place. Therefore, it would be helpful if you would demonstrate everything you have accomplished so far."

"But Professor, I can't do magic..." Harry objected, worried.

"I have realized that, Potter, but I need to see you trying it! How else do you expect me to show you how to do it right, if I don't know what you're doing wrong!?" The potion-master snapped.

"Uuh... all right..." Harry looked at the man, doubtfully. But he didn't have a choice, did he? If he ever wanted to get the hang on making stuff happen with that wand... He raised said instrument, pointed it at a feather that the Professor had put upon the table in front of him and stated "Wingardium Leviosa!"

Just as expected, nothing happened, and Harry looked at his teacher questioningly.

Snape frowned. "Do it again!" He demanded.

After Harry had demonstrated his inability to do any magic twice more, the Professor seemed to have seen enough and regarded the boy in front of him thoughtfully.

He hadn't expected such a complete lack of magical abilities. From all what Severus had seen, the boy could very well be a squib. Nothing had happened. _Nothing. _The feather hadn't even moved an inch, and he hadn't felt any form of magical energy coming from Harry, or his wand, at all.

"Would you hand over your wand so that I can examine it?"

"Sure!" Harry didn't hesitate. Oh, it would be great if it wasn't his fault that he couldn't do any of the assigned tasks but his wand's! Sure, he might have to get a new one, but there had been plenty at the wand-shop he and Hagrid had visited, so this wouldn't be a problem, would it? He only hoped he would be allowed to keep his old one. Who knew whether a new wand would have the same effects on the demon, and he couldn't afford loosing this kind of support right now, not when the demon became stronger anyway...

Snape's eyes narrowed when the boy submitted his wand unhesitatingly. Had nobody told him that wands were considered one of the most intimate objects wizards and witches possessed?  
Deciding that he would address this particular issue later, Severus focused on the wand. Carefully, he felt for any crack or rift. When he didn't find any, he dropped the wand on one of the scales that, instead of the actual weigh, provided you with further details about the components the wand was made of. Fortunately, Minerva had been able to "borrow" it from Albus' office, and even so it was unlikely that the old coot would actually notice the absence of one of the more-or-less useful instrument he stored in his office, Severus was confident that the lioness would be able to make up a story.

The scales coughed up a narrow sheet of paper, but apart from the rather rare combination of holly and phoenix-feather, Severus could detect nothing unusual.

Sighing, he explained to the goggling child: "So far, I haven't found anything that would explain your difficulties. However, there is a spell that would allow me to see every charm, spell and curse – well, any magic at all - that has ever been cast through this wand. As it's a rather... invasive spell, I need your consent to proceed." He looked at Harry questioningly.

"Eh, sure..." Harry answered. So far, he hadn't done any magic, and before he had purchased it, his wand had been in the shop. And it was a new wand, wasn't it? Ron had told him that his wand had belonged to one of the boy's many relatives before Ron had gotten it, but since Harry's wand was from a shop, it must be new. This meant, nobody had ever used the wand. So the spell the professor wanted to cast on it would just show nothing, wouldn't it?

"All right." Snape said, lifted his own wand and roared: "Prior Incantato!"

* * *

**Next Chapter: What will the spell reveal? And: Occlumency again!**


	20. In his mind

_I don't own Harry Potter_

_I know that the first few chapters probably have more mistakes than the later ones, and that I have used expressions like "ok" overly much, considering that they are almost non-existent in the books. However, since I only have a limited amount of time I can spend on fanfiction, I have decided that writing is much more important than editing the first chapters, I'll do so as soon as I have finished the story!  
Nevertheless, thanks to everyone who points out my mistakes or things I could improve, it really helps me to get confidence!_

_As usual, thanks to everyone who reviewed or put the story on his/her alter or favourite-list, I would never have thought to get such a reply, since it's my first long story!_

* * *

**Chapter 20 - In his mind  
**

.

As soon as the tip of Severus' wand touched Harry's, silvery smoke began to rise from it. At first it was just a shapeless cloud, but after a few moments, it formed into something akin to - "A body?!" Severus gasped. What was the meaning of this? There was no way Harry could have killed someone, he was a child! A completely untrained child that couldn't perform the simplest first-year spells, let alone the killing-curse! But then – hadn't Harry bought his wand from Ollivander's? The wand-maker only sold new wands, it wasn't possible that someone else had used this very wand to kill a person – a child, when the small statue of the silvery body was any indication – wait, a child?  
The Potion Master looked at the form more closely. Yes, it had the form of a body, but something wasn't right... Then it struck him. It was an armour! An armour designed to fit a child! More precisely, the very child that was currently standing in front of Severus' desk, gaping at the shimmering, swirling form.

"Potter!" Severus barked, "what is the meaning of this? I thought you couldn't do magic!"

Harry snapped out of his daze. "I don't know, Professor, I haven't done anything, I promise..."

Looking sharply at the boy, Severus couldn't detect any sign that Harry was lying. He really seemed to believe that he had nothing to do with the protection-spell that had clearly been cast with his wand. Now that he had recognized the form as an armour, the potion-master thought he knew what kind of spell it had been. But it wasn't possible. These kinds of protection-spells weren't taught until at least sixth year! It seemed to be a mixture between an ordinary shield charm and an altered version of it, intended to protect a wizard's mind from dark curses and attempts of Legilimency. Only that in Harry's case, it seemed to be extended in order to provide protection for the whole body.  
But _how? _And what's more, why weren't there any traces – however weak – of the levitating-charm he had ordered the boy to cast earlier? Normally, even failed spells left their mark on a wand, at least if a tiny amount of magic had been involved.

"Harry, have you ever left your wand unobserved since your arrival at Hogwarts?"

"Uhm, I don't think so, Professor... I kind of like it, you know. It helps against the demon, it's even better than my medicine!"

Severus mind was reeling, but he did his best not to let it show on his face. After everything he had learnt about the boy so far, he felt that it would be the best course of action to take everything the child said seriously, no matter how far-fetched it seemed to be. "And – have you done anything specific with your wand when you used it to aid you against this demon?"

"Uhm, no... it just has to touch my skin. I noticed it when the giant man – Hagrid – took me to that strange place where I had to touch loads and loads of them! No one worked, though, except for this one... I can keep it, can I?" Harry looked at his professor, wide-eyed.

"Of course you can keep it, it's yours, after all!" Severus snapped. So Harry had managed to cast a complicated protection-spell without even being aware of what he was doing? But if the boy was this powerful, how was it possible that he failed to perform a simple levitating-charm? "When you touch your wand, it helps you to keep the 'demon' at bay, yes?"

"Yes."

"OK... this is... it is unusual." Severus hesitated. How much should he tell the child? He didn't want to frighten Harry, but at the same time, he wanted to ensure that the boy trusted him enough to let the Potion Master examine his mind more thoroughly. "Now, from what I have seen, it's clear that you have magic, Mr Potter. This shadowy figure that rose from your wand was some kind of... well, echo from a spell you must have cast earlier. I -"

Harry knew it was rude to interrupt an adult, but he couldn't help it. "I didn't do anything, Professor, I can't do any magic! This thing – someone else must have taken my wand and done magic with it!"

"I highly doubt this, Mr Potter. Taking another wizard's wand and performing magic with it is considered a very serious offence, nobody would do this just for fun! Additionally, you have already told me that you haven't left your wand unobserved since the start of term."

"But – but I can't do magic!" Harry was frustrated. Nobody seemed to understand him, nobody believed him, not even the Potion Professor!

"Yes, you can – don't interrupt me, Potter, I know that you haven't been able to cast the spells the other teachers expected you to do, but the result of the spell I cast on your wand proves that you are at least able to do magic, although not in the way it is done normally. Now, do I have your permission to continue casting the Priori Incantatum spell on your wand? It will show me which other spells you might have used without being aware of it, and it could help me to determine why you are unable to cast normal first-year spells."  
Amongst other things, Severus silently added. While he was well aware that, for Harry, the 'demon' wasn't such a pressing matter – the boy had dealt with it for most of his life, after all – Severus could feel that it was of utmost importance to determine its nature and, if required, eliminate it as soon as possible. And since Harry seemed to have used the protection-spell to shield himself from the 'demon', it was very likely that any other spells he might have cast unconsciously had something to do with the demon as well.

"Uhm, yes, all right..." The boy answered. Harry wasn't sure why the Professor was so keen on proving him wrong, but if it would help him to do magic just like Ron and the others did...

However, during the next minutes, it became clear that the protection-spell was the only one Harry – or at least some part of his mind – had cast successfully. Oh, there were traces of other spells, but Severus was unable to determine the exact nature of those. From what he saw, though, he got the impression that Harry – or his wand – had been involved in some sort of battle. Some of the echoes Severus got were detailed enough to classify them as other protection-spells, but others had apparently botched completely.

What bothered Severus the most, though, were the remains of a spell that reeked of dark magic. He wasn't sure which one exactly it was, the echo was too weak, but if he wasn't very much mistaken, the last time he had seen it had been during one of those occasions the Dark Lord had experimented with mind magic. He really had to consult some of his older books again.

Who had thought that it would be because of the very boy who had vanished the vilest wizard in recent history that the Potion Master would need to delve into the Dark Arts once more?

###

About half an hour later, Severus sent Harry back to his common-room. The boy was disappointed that the Potion-Master wouldn't let him practice any more, and that he had even forbidden him to continue practising on his own, but he had promised Harry that he could come back on Sunday afternoon and that they would continue their training then.

Severus had refrained from performing Legilimency on the boy – McGonagall would kill him if he was forced to send Harry to the hospital-wing once again - in favour of asking all kind of questions that might be of importance. He had learnt that, apparently, Harry hadn't had any bouts of accidental magic throughout his life (or at least as long as the boy could remember) and that his Aunt, Petunia, hadn't told him about the Magical World until his Hogwarts-letter arrived. He was worried about Harry's lack of education – apparently, those doctors had prevented him from going to school for years – and resolved on testing Harry's reading- and writing-skills as well as his knowledge of basic maths and science as soon as he had solved the more pressing problems.

Severus had tried to get Harry to talk about the time he had spent in hospital, but it had quickly become clear that the boy didn't like to talk about it and that any pressure was likely to cause another one of those panic-attacks.  
When interrogated about the demon, Harry hadn't been very forthcoming with information either, and Severus was left with the few bits of information he had gotten during his involuntary trip in the boy's mind and the hints Harry had dropped so far.

The Potion Master spent most of the weekend in his bedroom (which was warded with extra security-charms and secrecy-spells, so that Albus – or anyone else – would be unable to find out which books exactly Severus still had in his possession). He had given Minerva a hint that she should prevent Albus from bothering him, and fortunately it wasn't unusual for the him to disappear for an entire day or two, so it was unlikely that the old coot would interfere.

It wasn't easy to find useful information, though. First of all, it had been a while since Severus had last read all those books, and he had forgotten how graphic some of the descriptions of the nastier hexes were. It wasn't fun to read about the most painful methods humans could be killed, about the innumerable means to control and destroy a person's mind or about rituals that lead to power, magical strength or as close to immortality as you could come, even if it was for the price of other people's life, and Severus had to interrupt his reading more than once to clear his mind from all the vile and disgusting images.

Then, it was the sheer amount of information that made it difficult to distinguish between relevant and irrelevant things. Especially since he didn't really know what he was looking for. Sure, there was the dark – well, what? Being? Force? - well, the dark presence he had sensed in Harry's mind, and then he had the remains of dark magic he had discovered while examining the boy's wand to work with. He was positive that both of these things had something to do with mind- or soul-magic, but still, he couldn't be sure.  
And it wasn't as if he could just scan the index for the symptoms Harry displayed either.

It was only Sunday morning that he found a reference to something that might be useful. The splitting of a soul – which wasn't dark magic per se, but apparently was often used by dark wizards – could create a fragment similar to that one he had seen in Harry's mind.

But how on earth should a child be able to split his soul? And how was it possible that the splinter was this powerful?

But then... the boy had survived the killing-curse, and nobody seemed to have a clue why and how. Well, Severus was almost sure that Albus knew more than he let on, but once the headmaster had decided to keep something secret, it was all but impossible to make him reveal the truth.

Was it possible that the failed Avada Kedavra hat caused a tear in Harry's soul? And that the dark nature of the curse had somehow charged this fragment of the boy's mind with power beyond measures? Severus wasn't a scientist for nothing, and even so potion-making differed a great deal from muggle physics or chemistry, he did have a basic knowledge in those subjects, and therefore was well aware of the fact that energy couldn't just vanish into nothingness.  
And somehow, a little cut on the forehead seemed to be too little to account for the amount of energy that must have been involved in the events of That Night.

If he was right and the ominous being in Harry's head _was _a powerful – and perhaps evil – fragment of the boy's soul, separated from its origin all those years ago, it would certainly explain the protection-spell Harry had (unconsciously) cast. After all, the soul of the boy must have somehow protected itself against such a questionable being.  
Yes, it made sense... and the traces of all the other spells, including the dark one, that he had found on Harry's wand could easily be explained by the competition these two soul-fragments must have fought out for all those years.

However, it didn't explain Harry's inability to do magic. Surely it wasn't possible that only the part of the soul that had been severed off had magic? No, wait, it _wasn't_ possible! If there wasn't any magic left in the- well, what was it? The original soul? The remains of his mind? Well, if there wasn't any magic left in the part of Harry's mind that seemed to be undamaged, he could never have cast the protection-spell! Perhaps it was something completely different?  
And of course, it was also possible that he was wrong entirely, that Harry's mind wasn't splintered at all. Severus sighed. He would need to examine Harry's mind more thoroughly this afternoon, and he could only hope to find more hints.

###

Although Harry had been looking forward to meeting the Potion Master again all weekend, he seriously considered to ask Ron or Neville (well, more likely Ron, since Neville was unlikely to be able to speak coherently in the presence of Professor Snape) to tell the man that he wouldn't come.

He felt dreadful.

During the last nights, he had been unable to sleep more than three or four hours, and he seemed to have caught the flu, too, since he couldn't keep down anything he ate and felt alternately hot and cold. Ron had offered to accompany him to the hospital-wing, but Harry had refused to ever enter that place again. Dean and Seamus had threatened to tell their head of house that Harry was ill, but fortunately Ron had convinced them not to do so by pointing out that he would tell his twin-brothers that they had volunteered to be their guinea pigs for the more inventive pranks.

Harry had to promise Ron to stay in bed (well, under his bed), and while at any other time, he would gladly have done so, today he just couldn't lie still. The twitching of his legs was worse than ever and he felt an irresistible urge to move. Therefore, Harry spent most of his time travelling between his bed and the small bathroom adjoining the boy's dormitory, and while he needed to use the loo much more frequently than normal anyway, Harry became increasingly desperate during Sunday morning. He was so tired! He wanted to rest, just to be able to lie down for more than a few minutes, he wanted his stupid legs to stop twitching so that he could get some sleep! But it was impossible to go to sleep with that constant need to move.

Therefore, Harry dismissed the idea of sending Ron to excuse him from his appointment with Snape and dragged himself down to the dungeons. He hadn't anticipated how weak he felt, though, and he was ten minutes late when he finally arrived at the Potion Master's door.

"Potter, you're late!" The man snapped at Harry as soon as he had opened the door with a flick of his wand. He only looked up from the essay he was currently drowning in red ink when, instead of feeble excuses, all he heard was heavy panting.

"' sorry, Professor - ' just, I don't feel so good..."

"Potter! What's the matter with you? If you are ill, you need to see Madame Pomfrey – oh-" Severus interrupted himself. As if the boy would go to Poppy voluntarily after what happened last time he had seen the medi-witch. "Mr Potter, I understand your reluctance to ask Madame Pomfrey for help, but you seem quite unwell and... well, would you allow me to perform a basic diagnostic-charm on you? If you have caught the flu, it should suffice... and sit down, you stupid boy!"

"You do the spell! I don't go to that woman, no! And I'm all right, just tired!"

"Well, we'll see..." And Severus raised his wand and performed the diagnostic spell that would show him whether Harry had the flu or a cold or something similar minor that could be cured with a simple potion. However, the spell didn't produce any results. Severus frowned. He had been sure that the boy had at least a cold! "You say you're just tired?" He regarded him with an unreadable expression. Truth to be told, Harry looked dreadful.

"Yes. Can't sleep. Don't know why. Well, I have been sick... a few times... but it's nothing. I just want to go to sleep but my stupid legs just won't stop twitching and I feel as if I have to run and move all the time and I just can't lie still..." Perhaps the Professor could help? He was a potion-master, after all... perhaps he could give Harry a potion that would make his body stop feeling so weird?

"Hm... for now, I want you to take this potion-" and he handed Harry a vile of a clear, red liquid. "It's a Pepper-Up Potion, the same one you took after that... incident after class. I-" Severus, so used to have to explain the reasons for forcing a student to take one of his potions (and assuring them that, despite its taste, it wasn't poisonous), broke of when he realized – again – that Harry didn't seem to be interested in what he was taking or why, but just obeyed and swallowed the liquid.

"Ugh-" Harry exclaimed. It really didn't taste very good. Hadn't wizards any pills instead of these disgusting liquids? "Oh..." Harry marvelled. This stuff worked fast! "Thank you, Professor!" And he smiled uncertainly at the man.

"Are you well enough to continue with our... well, with figuring out why you are unable to perform magic the normal way?"

"Yes, sure!" The stuff the Professor had given him made Harry almost giddy.

"All right. First, I would like to now whether the... ehm, the 'demon' as you keep calling it has somehow bothered you during the last two days."

"Uhm..." Harry hesitated. How much to tell the Professor? He didn't want to lie to the man, but at the same time, he didn't want to make the Professor think that he had to send Harry back to hospital either. "It's.. well, it's a little bit worse than usual... but perhaps it's only because I cannot sleep very well... it's not as bad as it used to be before I started taking my meds, honestly!"

"Hm... but it _is _ worse than it was a week or so ago?" Perhaps the medicine Harry had taken until not even a week ago had indeed helped the boy? But how was it possible that something as dangerous and even toxic as Halolperidol could actually _help _someone?

"Uhm, kind of..."

"All right." He would need to consult with Poppy whether it would be safe to start giving Harry his real pills again, instead of the forged ones. It couldn't be good if that demon-thing became stronger. And he really needed to visit the doctor that had prescribed all those medicine! They just couldn't go on like this, guessing and trying to find out how to deal with Harry by trial and error! Tomorrow, Severus promised himself. Tomorrow he would go to Surrey, interrogating Harry's family and the people that worked in the hospital the boy had stayed at.

"Uhm, are we practising magic again, now?" Harry timidly asked when the Professor gave no sign of asking any further questions.

"No." Severus snapped out of his thoughts. "I need to perform Legilimency on you again – if you give me permission to do so, that is – entering your mind, like I did last Thursday." He elaborated after receiving a blank look from Harry. "I'll make sure it won't hurt you, though, last time, it was kind of an... accident."

"Uhm, but why? I thought you'd help me doing magic..." Harry said. Sure, he wanted the Professor to help him with the demon, but as far as Harry was concerned, finally being able to do magic was the more pressing matter.

"Yes, but in order to do so, I need to find out what exactly is causing your problems! And since it is quite possible that it is something inside your mind that is responsible for your lack of magical abilities, I need to examine it more thoroughly. I need your consent do so, though."

"But last time-"

"It was an _accident, _Potter! This means I didn't enter your mind intentionally!"

"But it hurt... I don't want it to hurt!"

"If it is done carefully, Legilimency doesn't hurt. You mustn't resist me, though."

"Uhm, OK..."

"Good. Now, you just need to look into my eyes – yes, right. And put your wand on the desk, it'll be safer... all right, this will be over quickly. _Legilimens!" _And once again, the Potion Master found himself inside Harry's mind. Only that this time something seemed to be different. He looked around, warily. Severus hadn't forgotten that... shadow... he had encountered last time.  
He could sense Harry's memories that tried to invade his own mind, but unlike the other time, he was prepared and his Occlumency-shields were in place, keeping them outside his consciousness. But this wasn't what he meant. No, something else had changed...

Then it struck him. The mud! It was still there, yes, but there seemed to be less of it than there had been only a few days prior, and it also was less... sticky. Last time, the mud had prevented him from moving freely, hell, even from thinking clearly! With dread he thought back to the terrible feeling of being completely out of control of his own mind he had had last time. The mud had somehow paralysed Harry's whole consciousness... everything that was in the boy's mind at all, including Severus' own thoughts.

Sure, it wasn't exactly easy to move now, too, but the whole atmosphere seemed to be less... stunted. He could still think reasonably well, and he didn't feel like he would go mad any second. It was a miracle. But what had caused this? Clearly, he hadn't imagined those mud, as it was still there. Could the sudden invasion have caused the change? But no, you couldn't affect a foreign mind just by entering it... and he hadn't done anything else last time. But what _had _changed? Albus couldn't have gotten hold of the boy, someone - at least Minerva - would have noticed. Neither could another student have done something to the boy, he knew for sure that only two Slytherins and three Ravenclaws had mastered Legilimency, and he kept track of all of them.  
No, it couldn't be mind magic that had meddled with Harry's head... and if Poppy had administered a potion or spell she would have better asked Severus! But inwardly Severus knew that the medi-witch would have never done such a thing. Not after what they had discussed.

Suddenly, the Potion Master whirled around. He had felt... yes, there it was! The shadow, the demon! Severus could feel the pulling, sucking sensation that radiated from the dark mass, he could feel the force trying to invade his mind, could sense it scratching on his shields... With all his might, Severus forced the thing away. He didn't know how long he would be able to hold it at bay, but he was determined to get as much information about it as possible (without destroying Harry's mind, that was).

Raising his wand, the Potion Master cast a weak Legilimens at the creature.

It didn't seem to affect the thing at all, though, it just kept advancing on him. Another two attempts – a bit more forcefully than the first one, but he needed to be careful if he wanted to keep his promise not to hurt Harry – didn't show any results either, and Severus started to worry.

The demon got uncomfortably close, and he didn't want to think about what the thing could possibly do to him once it had reached him. "Protego!" He yelled, a swirling mass erupting from his wand.  
To the Potion Master's horror, though, the shadow's progress wasn't slowed down in the least. If anything, the spell seemed to increase its speed and the force with which it was reaching out to Severus.  
Distantly, he heard the low moaning of a child. Harry! But what could he do – he needed to understand what was going on here! Gathering his strength, he cast a few more complex protection-spells.

The result was instantaneous.

Somehow, the thing seemed to feed on the magic released with the spells, and belatedly, Severus realized that it had been a very bad idea to provide it with the amount of energy that was activated by the advanced protection-spells he had just cast. Faster and faster the shadow moved towards him – if you could call it movement, that was. It was more like smoke – thick, vile, poisonous smoke that spread through Harry's mind, that engulfed everything else, every thought, every memory, the boy's whole consciousness.

He needed to go. Merlin knew what effects the spreading of the thing might have on Harry, he needed to make sure the boy was safe! Well, he wasn't very keen on being attacked by this strange force either, although it might provide him with some much needed information... but he had promised not to hurt Harry, and he couldn't afford to loose the boy's trust. Not now.

Severus turned around, relief flooding through his veins when he saw the bright light that marked the spot where he had entered Harry's mind only a few feet away from him.

Suddenly, just when he had turned around, the demon's pull on his own shields intensified. Before Severus could do anything, several things happened in quick succession.

Something that felt like a gust of wind blew him over, and he could sense someone else' presence surrounding him – obviously, the demon (as Harry called) it had reached him, though Severus didn't understand how it could actually _surround _him – and then his left forearm started to burn horribly. Before he had time to comprehend what had just happened, though, something like an earthquake shook Harry's mind, and then he heard a terrifying scream – no, two different screams! One was clearly Harry, but the other one? He needed to go out of the boy's mind _now, _who knew what might have just happened, he couldn't leave the Boy-Who-Lived unprotected!  
Using his last ounce of strength (again. Why did it have to be Potter of all people that's mind caused Severus to feel like he had been beaten up each time he travelled into it!?), he reached for the light and a second later he was back in his classroom, trembling, but standing.

All right. Now - "POTTER!" Severus grabbed the boy just in time to prevent him from hurling his small form against the stone wall. "WHAT IS THE MATTER WITH YOU YOU WRETCHED BOY!?"

Panting, Severus pressed Harry against his own body. Where did this strength come from? No eleven-year old – least of all someone as small as Harry – should pose a challenge for the Potion Master. "STOP THIS AT ONCE!" But all his shouting was in vain and the boy just continued fighting, trying to reach the wall.

When he was reasonably sure that he had a good grip on Harry, Severus lifted the boy from the ground and carried him in the middle of the room, as far away from the walls as possible. After a few long moments, the fighting began to cease, however, now Harry started to scream. The Potion Master couldn't make out actual words, though, and he just continued holding the boy, trying to calm him down by talking to him in what he hoped was a soothing voice, waiting for him to stop.

###

When Harry became aware of bodies surrounding him, hands holding him, he started to scream. He didn't know how or why it had happened, but it was clear that they were just about to tie him up again!

The last thing he remembered was the strange feeling when his Professor had cast the spell on him in order to look into his mind and find out what was wrong with him. Then, suddenly, the demon had become alive and tried to smash Harry against a nearby wall. But apparently, it hadn't succeeded as Harry wasn't injured – well, at least he didn't feel any pain – so they must have been quicker than it.

But something was different. Through all his desperation, Harry noticed that the adults that had caught him hadn't put him on a bed, neither were there any restraints... they seemed just to hold him...

"Potter? Harry? Are you better?" The Potion Master asked when he noticed that the screaming seemed to abate. However, as soon as he had raised his voice, the boy in his arms became stiff. Well, perhaps he was frightened because Severus was practically hugging him? "Potter! If you promise me not to try to kill yourself again, I might release you."

When he still didn't receive any reply, he tried to look into the boy's face. Green eyes stared in black ones. "Potter – Harry! Are you – I mean, can you promise me not to hurt yourself if I stop holding you?"

Harry nodded. Well, at least he seemed to be aware of his surroundings, Severus thought. "A verbal answer, if you please, Mr Potter."

"Y-hachmph—hcchch- yeh-es – yes" Harry coughed. Well, no wonder after screaming himself raw.

"All right..." Slowly, the Potion Master let go of the boy, ready to snatch him back should he made any attempt to head to the wall again – or doing anything else that could be harmful.

However, Harry just stood there and continued gawking at Severus.

"Well, what's the matter, Mr Potter?"

"You..."

"Yes?"

"You... I thought... do I have to go back to hospital now?"

"Why should you- ah, yes... I mean, no, Mr Potter, you won't ever go back to that hospital, and you don't seem to be injured, so I don't think it's necessary for Madame Pomfrey to have a look at you either."

"You... you didn't tie me up."

"Of course not!" Severus answered indignantly. "I'm well able to prevent you from hurting yourself without resorting to such barbaric means!"

"But... uhm, I'm sorry..."

"For what exactly, Mr Potter?"

"Well, for letting the demon almost get me... I know I have to be more careful, but... uhm, you did enter my head, didn't you?"

"Your mind, Potter! But yes, I did. However, I was forced to end the connection quite suddenly, that... well, that demon seemed to have sensed my presence and I didn't consider it safe to stay. I'm sorry if my intrusion has somehow... stimulated that thing."

"Oh, it has been trying to get me for days, Professor, it wasn't you fault..."

The two of them became silent. After a while, Severus beckoned Harry to sit down, and the Potion Master settled on his own chair, still deeply in thoughts. "Do you remember what happened after I cast the Legilimens on you?"

"Uhm, no, Sir... only that you did the spell, and then the demon almost got me and then you were holding me..."

"Hmmm..." Severus didn't know what to do. He was reluctant to let the boy go – who knew what he might do to himself if he wasn't monitored – but at the same time, he was desperate to go back to his quarters. Now that the rush of adrenalin had subsided, cold fear started to sweep over him.

His left forearm. Burning.

* * *

**Next Chapter: An incident that changes everything...**


	21. The Horcrux

_I don't own Harry Potter_

_I'm really sorry... but there will be a happy ending, I promise!_

* * *

**Chapter 21 - The horcrux  
**

**.**

In the end, Severus decided to floo McGonagall. She was the boy's head of house, and it had been her who had asked Severus to find out what was wrong with Harry in the first place, after all.  
He had to promise Harry that they would meet again the next day, though, as it seemed that the boy worried that Severus would stop helping him after witnessing what a freak he really was.

After handing Harry over to McGonagall (and a short, hushed explanation as to what had just happened), the Potion Master was finally able to withdraw to his quarters. He didn't waste any time and went directly into the relatively privacy of his bedroom, rolling up the sleeves of his robe - and caught his breath at the sight of his left forearm.

The Dark Mark wasn't nearly as visible as it had been when the Dark Lord had been at large, but its reddish contour stood out in sharp relief against the pale skin of his arm. A dull throbbing was all that was left now, but Severus could clearly recall the sharp, burning pain he had felt when the... the creature had engulfed him while he had been in Harry's mind.

What did this mean? If _He_ was back, the Dark Mark would be just as black and painful as it had been until not even ten years ago, Severus was sure of this. But to provoke such a reaction, _something _from Him must triggered the mark. The Dark Lord hadn't been the most powerful wizard of the last century or so for nothing, and he had marked his followers with the only intent to be able to call them at any given time, to have a connection with them that allowed him to exert some degree of control and, if necessary, torture them. He couldn't have made a mistake that caused the Mark to react to just anything, and, after all, Severus hadn't felt something like this since the night He had vanished. No. It must have something to do with what he had witnessed in Harry's mind. It must have something to do with Harry. And the only logical conclusion Severus could come up with was that the failed killing-curse had somehow knitted together the two wizards, the baby and the man, the victim and its murderer.

The Potion Master felt numb. This was worse than anything he had thought of. Before he had delved into Harry's mind for the second time, he had thought that perhaps he had been abused by his relatives, or that the doctors that had treated Harry had (after witnessing bouts of accidental magic) resorted to some barbaric means to stop the boy from doing "freaky stuff" and that, as a result of something akin to torture, Harry's mind had snapped.  
Yes, he had even thought about the possibility that the night the Potter's had been attacked had had some long-term effects on him, that the killing-curse had somehow damaged his mind, his magic, his soul.

But a connection with the Dark Lord, maybe even possession? No, this hadn't crossed his mind...

Briefly, Severus wondered whether Albus knew anything about it. It might explain why he had been so wary to reveal anything about that night, even to Severus, his spy, the man who considered himself responsible for the death of his only ever friend and who had, perhaps, grieved more than anyone else, and who had never stopped doubting whether the temporary banishment of the Dark Lord had been worth it, had been worth Lily's life...

Well, it wouldn't help to dwell on past mistakes. If he wanted to atone for all the griefs he had caused, he needed to concentrate on the matters at hand. First, to find out more about the link between Harry and the Dark Lord and whether Albus knew anything about it. Then, investigating how exactly those muggles had treated him, whether they had caused additional damage to Harry's mind and, of course, it was important to make sure that the thing didn't pose any danger, neither to Harry himself nor to his classmates. And then, well, then he had to determine whether there was any chance to get rid of it without killing the boy, too.

* * *

Harry, meanwhile, was confused. Instead of accompanying him back to the common-room, Professor McGonagall had brought him into the transfiguration-classroom and had assigned him an essay about the basics of transfiguration. Harry had tried to protest, as nobody else had to write an additional essay, but the Professor had only told him that, since he couldn't do the practical work and Professor Snape had even banned him from _trying _to perform a spell, it was only fair that he would do more theoretical work.

Secretly, Minerva felt bad about practically giving Harry a detention, but what else could she do? Severus had made it very clear that Harry wasn't to be left out of sight for at least the next hour, and she couldn't very well embarrass the boy by sitting next to him in the common-room. Not to mention that surely Albus would hear about it and demand an explanation. And if Harry actually did anything... well, Severus hadn't been very clear as to what had occurred in the dungeons, but the hints he had given her were enough for Minerva to decide that one hour of Harry's free-time wasn't worth the repercussions anything strange or dangerous he might do would have.  
Therefore, she had settled on keeping the boy busy until dinner was served, secretly observing him and hopefully getting some of her own work done while doing so.

* * *

"Harry, where have you been?" Ron shouted, as soon as his best mate sat down next to him at the Gryffindor-table in the Great Hall.

"Uhm, Professor McGonagall made me write an essay..."

"You had a _detention?_" Ron asked incredulously, "But _why_?"

"I don't really know... she just said that I wasn't allowed to do spells any more, and therefore I had to write more essays and do stuff like that..." Harry answered.

"You aren't _allowed _to do magic any more?" Ron looked at Harry as if the latter one had gone nuts.

"Uhm, yes... Professor Snape don't want me to try any more magic until he has figured out why I can't do it... He is trying to help me, you know, that's why I had to meet him this afternoon. But then, well, he told me he needed to do some more research, and then Professor McGonagall took me to her classroom and... well, I had to stay there until now."

"But... but Snape, he is a _Slytherin_!"

"Yeah, but he isn't that bad. Honestly!" Harry added, having seen the look of utter disbelief Ron gave him. "He's really nice and he really tries to help me. I mean, I know I'm not good at magic, but perhaps I can at least learn to do _something?_" Harry's tone was almost pleading.

"You are the Boy-Who-Lived, of course you'll learn how to do magic!" Ron spluttered, "but why is _Snape_ helping you?! Surely he's only trying to _prevent_ you from learning how to do it right! He's a Slytherin, you can't trust him, Harry! They are all followers of you-know-who, my mum has told me everything about it, he will try to hurt you!"

"Mh... but he's really nice. He keeps explaining me things... and he hasn't hurt me! No, he _saved _me when the other witch – the medi-witch – hurt me! Yes, Ron, he saved me, he didn't hurt me!"

"But... but you can't trust a Slytherin, Harry!" Ron was nearly in tears. He wouldn't let Harry get hurt by one of them, no, he would make sure that Harry understood that you couldn't trust a snake, no matter how nice they pretended to be! "Please, Harry, Snape will only hurt you, please, you have to talk to McGonagall, or Dumbledore if McGonagall won't listen! I'll come with you, I tell them what my mother has told me about Slytherins, they have to do something about Snape trying to hurt you!"

"He doesn't hurt me, Ron!" Harry said tersely. While it was nice to finally having a friend, Harry wouldn't stop going to Professor Snape only because Ron didn't like Slytherins. No, Professor Snape was the first one who actually listened to Harry and didn't just tell him that he was too young to understand anything, that he just had to take medicine and everything would be fine, that Harry's opinion and wishes couldn't be taken seriously because he was mad.  
No, he liked Snape and he would made sure Ron would accept this.

"But.. but.."

"You can come with me, if you want to, than you'll see for yourself that he's really nice and all!"

"Come with you?" Ron breathed, paling. "But... it's not safe Harry, please, we have to tell it McGonagall!"

"You can tell Professor McGonagall, then." Harry replied, irritated at Ron's refusal to believe what Harry said. "I like Professor Snape and I won't go to Professor McGonagall because of he actually helping me! No, he-"

"Harry is right, Ronald!" Hermione (whom neither of the boys had been noticed until now) interjected. "Honestly, he is a _teacher!_ He wouldn't do something to harm a student!"

"You don't know anything, Hermione! Your parents aren't wizards, they don't know about Slytherins and what they are like! Harry might be in real danger, Snape could _kill _him, and you just -"

Hermione huffed. "He's a teacher, Ron, and he has only Harry's best interest at heart! And it isn't as if Harry was complaining about him, is it? Don't you think you should listen to what Harry's trying to tell you, and not just telling him what to do only because you have heard some _rumours _regarding Slytherins? Honestly, he and Professor McGonagall seems to be the only ones of the teachers that are actually trying to _help_ Harry!"

"Professor McGonagall?" Harry asked, blankly. How was McGonagall trying to help him?

"Sure. She made you study the theory, didn't she? It's very important to know the theory, too, and don't you think that classes are a bit too focused on practical spell-work? I mean-"

Harry and Ron shared a look that clearly showed that neither of the boys had a clue about what the witch was talking about.

* * *

When Monday dawned, Severus felt as if he had aged about fifty years during just one weekend. Again, he had spent most of the night reading and jotting down things that might be of importance, but this wasn't why he felt so dreadful. No, it was because he thought that he finally had discovered what exactly was wrong with Harry. And it wasn't a pleasant theory.

At first he had thought he would need to visit Knockturn Alley in order to get some more books, because non of the ones already in his possession seemed to contain the relevant information. Then, however, while reading one of the texts that dealt with different means of suppression of magical energy, he had stumbled across the description of a rare substance used in potions that meant to block a person's magic. According to the book, the substance would paralyse the mind of the person that had ingested it and would fill the mind of that person with some sort of mud that blocked emotions and thoughts as well as magic. It was recommended to use it only for short-term magical suppressions, though, as the side effects seemed to be rather sever and it could easily be detected by anybody who was proficient in Legilimency.

When he had read those lines, Severus had cursed himself for not studying darker potions in more depths. Sure, he had brewed quite a few of the nastier ones while serving the Dark Lord, but when he had become a spy, he had sworn himself not to spent more time than necessary with those potions and substances that were considered dark, if only to prevent himself from getting tempted, again.

After the perusal of a few additional books, Severus was convinced that he had indeed discovered the source of the strange state of Harry's mind. Yes, the substance he had read about in the first book was closely related to another one, of which he had already read quite a few articles in his potion journals. And both of them seemed to be the basis for the very drug Harry had taken before he had come to Hogwarts! Well, at least one of them.

This explained the mud.

The Potion Master wasn't sure whether the muggles knew about the exact way this substance worked, but it was quite... understandable that they kept drugging people with it that appeared to be disturbed, hysterical... Yes, after all, it suppressed emotions, thoughts, well, every possible expression of what was going on in a person's mind. The very things that were, according to the potion-book, considered unfortunate side-effects were the exact results muggles wanted to achieve by prescribing someone these drugs.

Fortunately, the substances (at least the magical ones) didn't seem to have any long-term or irreparable effects on a wizard's magic. For possible mental effects, or even changes in the way someone's brain worked, though, there was very little hope that Harry would completely recover from taking these drugs for years. Severus could only pray that the damage done to the boy was bearable.  
However, as it normally took a few weeks (and sometimes even month, depending on the duration someone had taken the pills) for all of the active substances to get out of a person's system, they would have to wait at least another month before they would be able to tell how far Harry was impaired by the residual effects.

But this wasn't the only answer Severus had found during the night.

He had been reasonably sure that the... demon he had seen in Harry's head, had, originally, been a part of the boy himself. However, after the way his Dark Mark had reacted to the being, he was forced to correct his initial assumption. And the only reference to something even remotely similar to the force that, well, seemed to 'possess' Harry he had found had been the concept of Horcruxes.

The Potion Master had never heard of those before.

After reading the few bits of information the book contained about them, though, Severus had understood why it was that he had never come across those objects in any of the (rather questionable) books he had read while being an active Death Eater. Purposefully splitting one's own soul by murdering another human being in order to gain immortality... no, it wasn't a surprise that even most books about the dark arts avoided this very subject.

Well, it seemed that, after all, he would need to pay a visit to Knockturn Alley. If this thing in Harry's head _was_ a Horcrux, a splinter of the soul of the Dark Lord, he would need as much information as he could get about these... creatures. Currently, he wasn't even sure whether it was possible for a living being to become a Horcrux, but since he hadn't found anything else... well, and then he needed to find a way to get that thing out of Harry' mind. Preferably without killing the boy.

Severus cast a 'tempus' and sighed. Breakfast had already started, and afterwards he would have classes until late in the afternoon. No chance of leaving the castle until tonight. And then he needed to see those muggles, too... well, it would be a busy day.

* * *

At lunchtime, Harry felt frustrated. It had been worse enough to be the only one who wasn't able to cast spells, but now he was even forbidden from _trying_ to do so! Professor McGonagall (or maybe Professor Snape) had told every teacher that Harry wasn't supposed to perform any magic, and therefore he had to endure the curious (and sometimes even scornful) looks of his classmates. Additionally, he was to read chapter after chapter in his textbooks, which was quite a chore considering that he could hardly concentrate.

He was reluctant to join Ron into the Great Hall for lunch, knowing that the knives would be there. Harry didn't know how much longer he would be able to hold the demon at bay. Originally, he had hoped that the incident in Professor Snape's classroom the day before had somehow placated the wretched thing, but after fighting against its efforts to smash Harry against the wall of the dormitory the entire night, he had given up hope.  
However, just now the red-head was entering the Great Hall, eager to get as much to eat as possible, and Harry knew that he didn't really have a choice. He, too, was hungry, and surely it wasn't allowed to skip meals either. With a bad feeling, he followed his friend.

"Aren't you hungry?" Ron asked (between two mouthfuls of Steak-and-Kidney Pie) when he noticed that Harry only poked around in his food.

"Yes..." Obediently, Harry took a mouthful of his own food. He felt sick.

He would never know what exactly had happened this lunch.  
He had gazed at the teacher's table, trying to catch the Potion Master's attention. He couldn't go on like this, every moment now the demon was about to do something drastic and he didn't want it to happen in front of the entire school. Perhaps, if he could somehow make the Professor understand what was happening with him, perhaps the man would take him from the Great Hall, rescuing him both from the students and from the demon, just like he had done yesterday.

It was just when he had managed to made eye-contact with the man that Professor Quirell turned around to speak to the teacher next to him. Harry felt a sharp pain in his forehead, and then the demon broke free.

Ron had been about to ask Harry whether he wanted to have dessert, too, when the boy next to him stiffened. Then, before he could do more than blinking, Harry seized the knife next to his plate, swung it back and thrust it into his left hand that was still lying on the table.

"HARRY!" He screamed, but his friend didn't pay him any attention. He just pulled the now-bloodstained knife out of his hand and brought it down again, this time stabbing his thigh. Immediately, blood began to pour out of the wound. Lots of blood. However, Harry didn't seem to notice. Or perhaps he just didn't care.

"HARRY! HARRY!" Ron panicked. He didn't know what was going on, but he needed to stop his friend from hurting himself! But what could he do? Wasn't one of the teachers-...?

Again and Again Harry thrust the knife into various parts of his body. His left hand was a mess and Ron thought he could see bone amongst the swirling red liquid that sprayed over the table.

Dimly, the youngest Weasley-boy heard the rest of the students screaming, some of them were already running towards the Entrance Hall, away from the insane boy. Others just watched the scene with a sort of disgusted fascination

It was when Harry reached out and plunged the knife into his left eye socket that Ron was pulled out of his stupor. "HAAAARRYYYY NOOOO!" He yelled and hurled himself towards the boy, intending to grab the knife, preventing Harry from doing even more damage.

He hadn't considered his own safety, though.

Just when he had touched Harry's hand, the hand that was holding the knife, the other boy seemed to become aware of him. For the split of a second, Ron got a good look at Harry's eyes, well, eye, since one of them was only a bloody mess by now. If possible, the red-head paled even further by the sight of the fury and loathing in Harry's gaze, and somehow, even the unhurt eye had a deep red colour.

Then he felt a sharp pain in his right shoulder. When he looked down, he saw that his cloak had a small hole. The fabric next to the hole seemed to become warm and damp, but before Ron had time to process what had just happened, Harry brought down the knife again, this time aiming at his upper chest.

Before Ron passed out, he thought that he saw a big, dark-robed figure pulling Harry away from him.

###

Severus was nervous. All day, he had had a bad feeling about leaving Harry unobserved. When the boy had entered the Great Hall, he noticed Harry's discomfort and decided to catch the boy after lunch, making sure that he was all right. Well, as far as this was possible.  
A few minutes later, however, he became aware of Harry staring at him. Perhaps he should go to the boy immediately, making sure that he didn't feel worse than normally, that he still had control over the – _thing_ – in his head?

He had been about to get up when he saw Harry's body becoming stiff. Oh damn it! He might already be too late... Severus jumped to his feet and started to run towards the house-tables when the hall erupted in chaos. Students screamed and many of them headed towards the exit, while others just sat there and gapped. He couldn't see Harry right now so he didn't know exactly what the boy was doing, but he had a pretty good idea. Severus thought he heard Albus calling something, but he didn't pay attention to the old man, his only concern right now was to get to Harry as fast as possible.

Without paying regard to the students that ran into the opposite direction, Severus forced his way towards the place he knew Harry sat. Moments later – though to Severus, it seemed like hours, and he cursed the students that weren't able to react reasonably to an emergency like this - he had reached the boy, and although his first instinct was to vomit at the sight that greeted him, he kept an iron grip on himself, drew his wand and pointed it at the knife in the boy's hand, just when Harry brought it down towards Weasley's chest, clearly trying to (at best) hurt the other child severely.

The next thing he knew was that his wand clattered to the ground and Harry was in his arms, fighting like Severus had never seen anybody fight before.

"HARRY STOP IT! - HARRY!" The boy didn't gave the slightest clue that he had heard Severus. Well, not that he really had expected him to respond. The Potion Master wasn't even sure whether Harry could actually hear him. He felt the sharp kicks of Harry's feet, and at the same time, the boy's blood drenched his cloak. He needed to be brought to the hospital wing, and quickly!

"ALBUS!" Despite all the reservations he had against the headmaster, Severus was relieved when he saw that Dumbledore approached them. "We need Poppy, NOW! Albus, I don't know whether – ouch!" He gasped when Harry managed to kick him right into his stomach. He barely managed to keep his grip on the boy. Obviously, the headmaster had noticed, though, because suddenly Harry became limp in his arms.

"ALBUS! What-"

"Stunning-spell." Far too calm for Severus liking, Albus bent down to the unconscious form of Ron Weasely, feeling for a pulse.

"The boy is all right. Minerva, if you would fetch Poppy? Tell her that we have an injured student in the Great Hall. I -"

"TWO injured students! Albus, the boy bleeds like a slaughtered pig, we need to bring him to the hospital-wing, I don't know how long-" the Potion Master interrupted himself when Albus raised his hand. "ARE YOU DEAF, OLD MAN? THE BOY IS BLEEDING TO DEAD YOU-"

"Severus! An emergency team from St Mungo's will arrive any second now. They'll take the boy with them."

"St Mungo's? But-?" Just then, four or five healers sprinted through the door that led to the Entrance Hall.

"Ah, thanks for your prompt arrival. Now, the boy in the arms of the Potion Master has sustained serious injuries. If you would-?"

Without waiting for a more detailed explanation, the healers took the boy out of Severus arms and laid him on the ground. Two spells later, and Harry was completely naked. While most of the healers were waiving there wands over the boy's body, one of them turned to the headmaster.

"What exactly has happened?"

"Harry – he stabbed himself with a knife, several times. He was responsive, but the headmaster had to stun him because he wouldn't stop fighting. He has... some mental health issues. Until his arrival at Hogwarts, he was treated by a muggle-doctor, apparently he stayed in hospital for some time, too. He had to take several heavy drugs, however, he hasn't taken them for almost a week now. It seems that he has had... incidents like this before, well, for quite some time already, though I don't know what exactly is causing them..."

"Self inflicted injuries, then?" The healer nodded. "All right, anything else we need to know?"

This time, Albus beat Severus. "It's Harry Potter, Peter." The healer – Peter – gapped. "Yes... I think it'll be the best if you take him to St Mungo's. I don't know how serious his injuries are, but considering that he has attacked another student, we can't keep him here. He needs to be monitored more closely, and it might be for the best if he is placed on the Janus-Thickey-Ward..."

Severus couldn't believe what the headmaster was saying. He wanted – for all intents and purposes – _expel _the boy?! "Albus, you can't be serious!"

"Yes, Severus, I am serious. We can't keep the boy here in his current condition, it's much too dangerous. Yes, better to place him somewhere where he can't hurt himself or others. No-" the headmaster raised his hand when he noticed that his youngest staff-member was about to protest. "We'll talk later, Severus!" And with a meaningful look, Albus turned back to the healer.

"All right. Pam? How's the boy?" The healer asked one of his colleagues.

"He's stable, but he'll need quite a few blood-replenishing potions. The vital blood vessels seems to be unhurt, though, as are the inner organs. Has been quite lucky, little boy... well, we had to remove the stunning-spell, but we have given him a sedative, it should be enough to keep him calm until he can be brought to the hospital-wing." One of the healers that had worked on Harry's still form answered.

"We take him to Mungo's Pam." The healer that had talked to Dumbledore – Peter - said, and at the questioning glance of his colleague he added: "Apparently, the boy did all of this to himself..."

Pam's eyes became huge. "All right... you have an emergency Portkey, right? I don't want the boy being jostled too much!"

Peter nodded, then he turned back to Dumbledore. "You said he injured another student?"

"Yes, but it doesn't seem to be too bad. Our medi-witch will deal with Ron."

"All right. Then, do we need to take any precautions? Does the boy have a history of being aggressive or anything like that?"

"No." Severus stated firmly, ignoring the doubtful look Albus was giving him. "But he has taken rather strong medication until only a week ago that might interfere with some potions. Here -" and Severus produced a quill and parchment out of thin air and wrote down the names of the substances, "under _no_ circumstances he is to be given anything that might interact with those substances! I have started to do some research concerning the entire matter, I'll let you know if I find anything else that might be of importance. And you aren't to use any invasive diagnostic spells either when examining his state of mind either, Pomfrey already tried and he reacted badly to them!"

Absent-mindedly, the healer nodded. "All right. - Guys? We're taking the boy to Mungo's!"

And while the healers prepared for their departure, Severus got a good look on the (still naked) Harry. The boy was very pale (well, apart from the parts of his body that were smeared with blood) and he was connected to several magical iv's. The slight pulsing that surrounded his head told Severus that a spell that made it easier for Harry to breath was in place.

"I'll contact you as soon as everything is settled." The headmaster told the healer. Whatever this meant, Severus thought.

When the portkey activated, the Potion Master had the strange urge to touch it, too.

* * *

"Albus, what in Merlin's name is _wrong_ with you?!" Severus demanded. The two wizards were currently on their way to the infirmary where Ron Weasley had been brought by Madame Pomfrey while Albus and Severus had still been occupied with seeing Harry off.

"What do you mean, Severus?" The headmaster asked, his tone neutral.

"What I mean?! You send the boy to St Mungo's! Poppy and I would have been quite able to deal with his injuries, well, and even if it might have been wise to let some additional healers have a look at the boy to ensure that we don't miss anything, there was no need to practically forcing them to take Harry with them!"

"Well, considering that Harry has hurt another student and perhaps even intended to kill him, and that we don't know what has caused him to do so in the first place, I don't think it would have been wise to keep the boy here. There are other students we need to keep safe, Severus."

"And of course Harry is a greater threat to the dunderheads than that blasted cerberus is?" Severus replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"I think -" but the headmaster broke off, and for a few seconds both men were silent. "Fluffy – Hagrid and I know how to deal with it. There is no need to be worried about the creature. Harry, on the other hand..."

"You really want to make me believe that Harry is more dangerous than that monster?!" Severus asked incredulously. "Have you forgotten that you agreed on me figuring out what's wrong with the boy? And that I can hardly do so while he is locked up in St Mungo's?"

"Then you did find something?" Albus asked sharply, casting a piercing glance at the Potion Master.

"Perhaps..." Severus answered non-committally. He surely wouldn't tell Albus about the things he had discovered in Harry's mind. The headmaster's behaviour all but proved that the old coot knew more than he let on, and if he send Harry off to the closed ward of St Mungo's (where the healers might do Merlin knew what to him) only because the boy hurting himself and a classmate, Severus didn't want to know what Albus would do when he learnt that – maybe! - a part of the Dark Lord himself resided in his mind! Probably lock him up in the dungeons, protected by wards so strong that only the Dark Lord himself (if he ever returned) would have a chance of getting them down. Otherwise... the headmaster might even decided that 'for the greater good' it would be better to simply kill the boy. Dumbledore might be a so-called 'light' wizard, yes, but that didn't mean that he wouldn't sacrifice a life if he thought it would prevent the suffering and death from other people in the future.

But Severus would do everything in his might to protect Harry from any harm that Albus might have in store for him. He didn't know why, he didn't understand how it was possible, but somehow, incredibly, Harry had managed to evoke an entire unfamiliar feeling in the Potion Master.  
Yes, he cared for his snakes, even if he didn't show it openly, and he appreciated the... well, the almost-friendship with Poppy and the exchange of experiences with some other potion masters via owl-post. He wasn't overly fond of people in general, yes, but he wasn't antisocial either!  
But never before did he have a feeling of guilt when healers took another person away to hospital. After all, this was their job, wasn't it? And hospitals were there to help people, after all! But the mental image of Harry being forced to lie in a bed and the child screaming and crying and no one helping him because no one understood made Severus feel extremely helpless and guilty. And he didn't like either of those feelings!

And then there was the burning desire to find a way to destroy that evil thing, that demon, the part of the Dark Lord that had lodged itself in Harry's mind like some sort of parasite. How dared that _thing _to sully Lily Evans' child in such a fashion!?  
At this moment, while he walked next to Albus Dumbledore towards the infirmary to find out more about Weasley's condition, Severus took a silent oath to do everything in his might to make sure that Harry wouldn't end up being locked in St Mungo's for years on end like the Longbottoms, and he would free Harry's mind from that evil creature, no matter what it took. He _would _find a way to force it out, to destroy it, even if he had to invent an entire new branch of magic!

And he surely wouldn't let Albus take advantage of the child either. No matter what the old coot had planned for the boy, he would get him to tell Severus everything he knew and than he would prevent Albus from having any other chance of meddling with Harry's life again. Sending Harry away just when Severus had begun to make progress with the boy, oh yes, this was very much like Albus! Perhaps the old man didn't actually _want _for anybody to find out about his condition!  
Well, Severus would make sure that Albus wouldn't have another opportunity like this, and he would prepare Harry for the manipulations from that man. Harry would decide for himself whether he wanted to serve the old coot for some dubious greater good, yes! Severus wouldn't forbid him, of course not, but the boy deserved at least a _choice_!

Just then they reached the infirmary and Severus could already hear Poppy's babbling. But wait – this wasn't Poppy's voice! Lifting his left eyebrow, he turned to Albus.

"Ah, I think Molly has already arrived..." He answered, his expression sombre but his eyes twinkling nevertheless. "Perhaps you would agree meeting me in my office tonight? I suppose it would be wise to discuss... recent events in more depths without having possible witnesses..."

Severus curtly nodded. Now Albus had given him the perfect opportunity to find out exactly what the old man knew about Harry without him having to pry.

"Albus Dumbeldore!"

They had just entered the hospital-wing and a furious Molly Weasley was advancing on them.

* * *

**Next time: Molly and Ron's reaction and a serious discussion between the headmaster and Snape**

_Additional notes: For one, I don't know whether the scene where Harry is hurting himself is too graphic for the "T"-rating, if you think so, just let me know and I'll change the rating to "M". Then, I imagined St Mungo's having certain means like portkeys in order to come to Hogwarts as quick as possible, after all, if a child is seriously injured you don't have time to walk all the way from Hogsmeat up to the castle. However, somehow I couldn't include this particular information in the fic, but I wanted to explain it just to avoid confusion. _


	22. The Solution

_I don't own Harry Potter_

_I have decided to stay with the "T"-Rating, as most people (including myself) seem to think that the rating is appropriate. I don't plan to make a habit of including such detailed descriptions of injuries, so I hope it's ok for everyone. _

* * *

**Chapter 22 - The solution**

**.**

"Molly! How nice to see you!" Albus beamed at the advancing red-head and Severus could only wonder whether the headmaster had absolutely no sense of self-preservation or if he was simply blind. If the Weasely-matriarch would have looked at _him _in such a threatening way...

"ALBUS DUMBLEDORE! HOW _DARE _YOU TO ALLOW ONE OF MY SONS BEING HURT BY A FELLOW STUDENT!?"

"Molly, please, there is no need to be upset-" The headmaster tried to placate the furious woman.

"NO NEED TO BE UPSET? ARE YOU _MAD,_ DUMBLEDORE?! THAT BOY COULD HAVE KILLED MY RONNY!"

"Well, but he hasn't... and if I have understood Poppy correctly, Ronald only sustained superficial injuries, nothing remotely life-threatening... well, of course, I haven't spoken with her since she left the Great Hall but..."

"And you think this would excuse what that _boy_ has done to Ronny?!" While Severus was glad that the witch had stopped screaming like a banshee, somehow the hissing sounds she made now were even more threatening. "He could have killed him, Albus! He could have killed my son! And you just stand there and tell me that there is no need to be upset?"

"Well... he hasn't killed Ron, and the healers got here immediately after I had summoned them. If Ron had been seriously injured, he would have received the best possible care right away! But, well, this point is moot anyway now, and whilst I'm sorry that such a thing happened to one of your boys, there is no need to worry any longer... the boy that caused Ron's injury was brought to St Mungo's and he won't return until the healers have found a way to cure him from this strange madness..."

We will see that, Severus thought, but he was wise enough to stay silent. It wouldn't do for the headmaster – or Molly Weasley – to know that he had no intention of leaving Harry in the dubious care of the staff of St Mungo's longer than absolutely necessary.

Just then, the medi-witch approached the three of them and interrupted the argument Molly and Albus were currently engaged in.

"Ah, Poppy! I trust young Ronald is attended to?" Albus asked, despite Molly's growling still cheerfully.

"Yes," Poppy replied in her usual brisk manner. "The injury he sustained on his shoulder was minimal, once it is properly healed he won't feel a thing. I would like to keep him here, though, at least until tomorrow, he lost his consciousness, after all, even if it might only have been due to shock... well, but the boy seems to feel rather well already, so if you want to question him on what exactly has happened... well, only if Molly doesn't have any objections, of course!" The medi-witch added hastily after receiving a frown from the mother of the child in question.

"Well, Molly, do you agree? I think it would be the best course of action to listen to young Ronald's account of events before making any other decisions..."

And so it was that Poppy led Mrs Weasley, the headmaster and Professor Snape (after a brief explanation from Dumbeldore that Severus was in charge of dealing with the offender) to the far end of the hospital-wing were the youngest Weasely-boy had been put to bed, hidden behind a screen (a magical one, of course, completed with light protection-charms and spells that prevented anybody outside the covered area from eavesdropping) that allowed a minimum of privacy.

"Ah, Ronald, I'm glad to see you have mostly recovered from the unfortunate event!" Dumbeldore greeted the boy, who sat in his bed, propped up against several pillows.

"Uh, yes..." Ron answered, somehow intimidated at being addressed by Albus Dumbledore himself. "It wasn't so bad, really, and Madame Pomfrey told me that by tomorrow, the wound will be healed completely. I don't really mind spending the night here either, so I guess it's all right..." He trailed off, awkwardly.

"Ah, I'm glad that you can see it this way, Ronald. Well, perhaps you can tell us what exactly has happened before you passed out? Of course, if it's too stressful or frightening for you we can always wait until tomorrow, or resort to Legilimency..."

"No, no, it's fine!" Ron assured the headmaster. "But, Sir, ehm, where's Harry, Sir?"

"Harry, my boy? You don't need to worry about him, son, he won't be able to harm you ever again!"

"Ehm I don't worry about that... it is only, he was hurt pretty badly, much worse than I, I think, and well... I haven't seen or heard him but I really think he needs being treated by Madame Pomfrey, too..."

"Oh no, don't worry, child, Harry has been brought away. You're right, he did sustain rather sever injuries – nothing life-threatening, though," the headmaster added, having seen the worried look on Ron's face, "but he has been taken to St Mungo's. He will receive the best possible care and he won't return until it is absolutely safe for him to do so! He won't attack you again, I can promise you that!"

"But... but... he's my friend!" Ron spluttered. "You can't just send him away!"

"Ronny, honey, he has viciously attacked you! He could have _killed_ you! I won't allow such a threat to remain anywhere in your vicinity, least of all in your own dorm!" Molly interrupted her son, appalled that he was actually defending his own attacker.

"But... but it's only Harry! He isn't dangerous – well, most of the time. And it was only an accident! He didn't mean to attack me, or himself, I have seen it in his face! It was just like the other day when he ran out of DADA, he didn't mean to slam his head against the wall, he just couldn't help it! He's just like Luna, mum, just like Ginny's friend! You can't send him away, I won't allow it, he's my _friend_!" The last part was directed more at Dumbledore than as Molly, who seemed to be at a loss for what to say.

The headmaster was lost in thoughts for a few moments, and when he spoke again he chose his words carefully. "Well, for now, Harry needs to stay in St Mungo's anyway, so there is no need to discuss that point just now-" But Dumbledore couldn't finish his sentence because just then, Molly Weasley exploded.

"I WON'T ALLOW THAT BOY COMING BACK TO HOGWARTS EVER AGAIN, ALBUS DUMBLEDORE! I should have contacted you right after he acted all funny when I tried to help him finding the platform but I though it was only because everything was new to him! I should have realized what a dangerous maniac that boy is when he almost pushed me on the ground and ran away without apologizing or thanking me for helping him! I will bring this to the attention of the ministry if I must, but I won't allow you to endanger my sons – or the other students - in such a fashion! That boy ought to be locked away forever, otherwise we will have to deal with another you-know-who in a few years time!"

"But Molly, surely you can't mean that Harry might become dark?" Albus asked the furious read-headed witch.

"Of course he will! He already is, or why do you think he has attacked my Ronny of all people?! Either he will become another dark wizard of the calibre of you-know-who or he'll get mixed up with some Death-Eater scum!" (here, she shot a look full of distrust in the direction of the Potion Master) "Albus, you have to promise me that you'll see to the boy being under lock and key for the rest of his life!"

"But, Molly... we don't yet know what's wrong with Harry, and while I agree that – for now – it's better not to have Harry at Hogwarts, I don't know... well, I'm sure Harry won't become a follower of Voldemort or anything like that..."

"How can you be sure of this, Albus?! You have already assigned the head of Slytherin to take care of that boy, so it's only a matter of time until he is just as corrupted as the entire house is-"

"Mind your language, woman!" Severus, who finally had enough, interrupted the witch. "I won't have you spouting prejudices like this! I-" But just then something happened that was almost unheard of: A student dared to interrupt Severus Snape, bat of the dungeons.

"Yeah, mum, Harry's a Gryffindor, after all!" Ron piped in, "and, well, I have already told Harry that he must be careful when dealing with Slytherins, but well, he thinks that they aren't so bad... well, at least he likes Professor Snape..." Only then, Ron looked at the Potion Master and cringed when he noticed how angry the man looked.

"I WON'T HAVE YOU DEFENDING YOUR ATTACKER, RONALD WEASLEY!" Molly shouted, "if he thinks that Slytherins aren't all bad it just proves that he is just as evil as the lot of them! You won't associate with such a boy, no matter whether it is Harry Potter or not!"

"But, mum, you always said... it's only Harry, he can't be bad! And if he thinks that some Slytherins are all right, perhaps-"

"Stop talking like this, Ron! I have told you again and again that you can't trust a Slytherin! They are responsible for the last war, they are responsible that you haven't got to know your uncles, they are responsible for me having lost my brothers-" Molly was sobbing by now, and since Severus could only stare at the woman who was spouting such prejudices and lies in front of her own child, Albus managed to re-take control over the situation.

"Molly, I'm sure that you don't really mean what you're saying right now. No, you're upset about young Ronald being hurt, and that's perfectly understandable, but I don't think it's wise to dwell on old times now, and I'm sure that once you feel better you will agree with me that not every Slytherin is evil. Mh, perhaps it would be better if we continue this discussion on a later date? I'm not sure whether everything that might come up would be appropriate for Ronald to hear..."

"He already knows that Slytherins are evil and that he mustn't trust anyone from that lot, Albus, do you really think I'm that careless?! Each one of my children knows not to get mixed up with one of them! They killed Gideon and Fabian, Albus, how can you have forgotten this?!" And again, Molly broke into tears.

"They were killed by Death Eaters, you stupid woman!" Severus remarked caustically. "And if you want to suggest that being sorted into Slytherin house is the same as being a Death Eater I suggest that you withdraw your lot of children immediately from this facility, since according to you, one quarter of the occupants of the entire castle are dark wizards. Not a good place to send one's children, don't you agree?"

"I – ITS YOU DEATH-EATER THAT SHOULD BE SEND AWAY YOU-"

"Molly, I don't think- well, why don't we retreat to my office, I'm sure we can come to an agreement without frightening Ronald further, don't you think so? I'm sure we will find a solution, but the infirmary is hardly the right place for a-, ehm, heated discussions, so if you would accompany me to my office...?" And while he kept talking soothingly to the distraught witch, Albus led her away, towards the entrance of the infirmary, receiving a dark glance from the medi-witch, who wasn't happy about all the shouting (and who had only allowed it to continue because there weren't any other patients in the wing just now).

"Eh..." Ron awkwardly cleared his throat. While he had begun to doubt his mother's claims that all Slytherins were evil, he felt rather terrified now that he was left alone with the head of the snakes himself. But then, his mother had clearly said that the Potion Master was responsible for Harry's well-being...

"You should be aware, Mr Weasley, that your mother is rather... upset about the recent turns of events, and perhaps you shouldn't take everything she just said for face value. I know she's your mother but-" Severus stopped, not really sure of what to say to the child who was looking at him with a mixture of fear and something else he couldn't quite place.

"You... you really take care of Harry?" Ron blurted out.

"Wha– yes, Mr Weasley, the headmaster, the medi-witch and your head of house have decided that I would be the best possible choice to find out what's wrong with Mr Potter and to..., ehm, well, to take means to remedy the situation if necessary." What was the boy on about?

"Then- I know he has hurt me, and I know that perhaps he isn't like anybody else... but he's my friend! And I'm sure Harry didn't want to hurt me, he just... he just lost control! I don't want him to be locked away forever and ever..."

"You are aware, Mr Weasley, that your mother considers the boy to be a serious threat for not only your but also your classmates' safety?"

"Yes, but, well, mum just worries about everything... and Harry really likes you, and you're a Slytherin... so I guess, perhaps mum's wrong and not all snakes are equally bad... well, I know she's still kind of upset because those guys killed her brother ages ago, but if Harry likes you you can't be too bad, I think... Mum had told us so many stories about Harry, but Harry isn't really like the Harry from the stories either..." Ron broke of. In the short week since he had come to Hogwarts, his whole view of the world had shifted. Yes, he still thought that it would be better not to trust any Slytherin with anything important, perhaps his mother _was _right after all, but then, she had been wrong about Harry, too. He wasn't anything like the boy from the stories, he was even more insecure than Ron! Ginny was in for a shock when she would come to Hogwarts next year, she practically idolized Harry! Well, the Harry she knew from the stories...

"Well, Mr Weasley, I'm certainly not going to just abandon Mr Potter at St Mungo's, I can't promise you anything, though. But if you know something about your friend that might be of importance, please let me know about it.

Ron nodded vigorously. Perhaps Harry _had _been right and Professor Snape wasn't so bad?

* * *

In the evening, after a subtle nod from the headmaster, Severus remained behind in Albus' office when the other heads of houses returned to their respective quarters. The headmaster had informed all of them about Harry's whereabouts and they had decided on what to tell the still-terrified students. Since nobody seemed to have a clue about what was wrong with the boy (or at least nobody, namely Dumbeldore and Severus, were willing to share anything they knew), they had simply set on announcing that due to unknown reasons Harry's mind was disturbed and that he would be treated in hospital until he was better. Severus just hoped this would be enough to avoid an angry mob of parents attacking the castle, but then, he had seen Minerva and Poppy glancing at each other meaningfully, so perhaps they had already come up with a better plan?

For a few seconds, it was completely silent, but then Albus started to speak. "Molly is still rather upset about today's events, but I hope she will calm down once she realizes that Ron wasn't hurt seriously and that Harry will be taken care of. Well, it's no surprise, not after what happened to her brothers back during the war. However, I must admit I had hoped she had recovered enough not to inculcate her children with all her reservations about Slytherins... well, but Ronald seemed to have developed a liking for Harry, despite his obvious oddities so perhaps..."

"She has told her children stories about Potter, Albus! _Stories_! As if the boy was some kind of fictional hero!"

"Yes, I know, but well, all of us were relieved when Voldemort finally vanished... and Molly has lost her siblings, Severus!"

"But this isn't an excuse for telling fairy-tales about a boy that has no knowledge about this... this night! He didn't do anything intentionally, it's ridiculous to admire him for something he can't even remember! And those talks about Slytherins being evil...well, with the whole bunch of Weasleys that have attended Hogwarts over the past decade, I finally begin to understand why house rivalries have taken a turn for the worse!"

"Well, yes, it's unfortunate... but perhaps we should focus on Harry now rather than on Molly's faults, Severus? I don't think there is anything we can do about her..."

"Yes... so what are you planning to do about Harry?"

"Well, for now, I really think it would be for the better if he stayed at St Mungo's. Then... well, I don't know, but this is part of why I have asked you here. You see, the Sorting Hat... well, normally, it doesn't tell anything about the things it has seen in the minds of the new first-years, the founders have seen to this, but, well, ehm..."

Severus frowned. Never before had he seen the headmaster this uncomfortable. "What is it, Albus?" he demanded.

"Well, I might have... after what happened with Tom, I thought it would be... desirable... to learn anything that might be of importance for the greater good as soon as possible, when there might still be a chance to change the course of history. And since the position of headmaster brings about quite a few useful capabilities, I decided to make certain...refinements concerning the sorting..."

"What exactly are you trying to tell me, Albus?!"

"Well, I, ehm, persuaded the hat to share certain information with me. It wasn't even entirely opposed to that notion, you see! I don't thing I would have managed to convince the hat that the current circumstances call for certain safety-measures if it hadn't agreed at least partially..."

"So you have interrogated the hat about the new students every year... Have you never heard about things like violation of privacy, you fool?!" Severus asked incredulously.

"Well, yes, but if it is for the greater good...?" Albus argued, and his voice sounded pleadingly. "Well, and it hasn't told me much anyway, but this year, well, it found some rather disturbing things in Harry's mind and... well, I think this might be the key for all of Harry's difficulties, and after what happened today..."

"If you have known what's wrong with the boy since September 1st, why haven't you informed me – or Minerva – about it?" Severus hissed. "I have spent hours searching for any clues, trying to get the boy to talk, and the entire time you have already known what has been the cause of everything?!"

"No, no, Severus, you have misunderstood me... well, you see, the Sorting Hat only told me very little about what it has witnessed in the boy's mind, and all I have been able to do is to guess what this might entail. But well, I have come to a conclusion, and today's events only support my theory."

"And so you have decided that finally your minions are allowed to know at least part of it, yes?" Severus was more than angry. He had known the entire time that Albus was playing a deeper game, but purposefully withholding information that might very well have enabled him to help Harry instead of just watching him almost killing himself...? Well, he shouldn't be surprised, this was Dumbledore, after all. "So what is it, then? What has the blasted hat told you about Harry?"

"Well..."Albus stood up, turned around and retrieved a low basin with runes carved into its side from one of the cabinets behind him. "I think I'd better show you..." And with that, he put the tip of his wand against his temple and when, after a few seconds of apparent concentration, he pulled it away again, a thin thread of a silvery substance was attached to it. Carefully, the headmaster lowered it into the Pensive, gave it a slight swirl with his wand, and the silvery form of the very man himself (looking rather ridiculous with the much-too-small Sorting Hat on his head) rouse from the depths of the basin.

As it was Albus' memory, Severus was able to understand every word of the conversation between the hat and the headmaster, despite it being hardly more than a whisper.

"... Slytherin. But that was before I felt the presence of another student in his mind, a student I have already sorted about fifty years ago. You know whom I'm talking about, headmaster." The last comment was a statement, and indeed, the Dumbledore from the memory didn't look shocked or bewildered but more like a man whose worst fears had just been confirmed, his expression defeated, resigned.

"And you are sure of this? Isn't it possible that it was Harry himself and the part of him only resembled Tom because of the similarities in their upbringing?" The ghostly form of the headmaster asked, sounding desperate.

"No. It's him, well, part of him. When he cast the killing-curse at the boy and it rebounded, his soul must have split. You know what this means, headmaster."

"Yes. I know."

Several minutes, no word was spoken, and Severus began to wonder why Albus – the real one – didn't stop the unfolding of the memory. You couldn't convey your own emotions or thoughts by displaying a memory like this, so there was no point in watching the Albus from the memory considering everything he had just learnt – and who knew what else.  
But then, the voice of the hat could be heard again, and Severus suddenly envied it for being able to see exactly what the old man was thinking. "Yes. I don't think there is any other way. But headmaster, he is only a child. And he has been through so much already. You shouldn't have left him with muggles who wouldn't understand anything about what was to come." Again, the hat's voice died down for several minutes. "No. As long as it lives inside his mind, he will be able to come back."

"Then Harry has to die." The memory-headmaster whispered, barely audible. Severus, though, felt as if the man had screamed at him.

"Perhaps..." The hat's voice trailed off, and with that, the memory ended.

Both men sat in silence for several minutes. Severus thoughts were racing, but he didn't let it show on his face. He had been right. There _was _a piece of the Dark Lord inside Harry's mind. And it had attached itself to the boy just when he had survived the killing-curse. How ironical, the Potion Master though, surviving the unsurvivable only to sentenced to death nevertheless.

"I won't allow you to kill the boy, Albus." He stated, looking sharply at the old man who probably had never looked older.

"But if it's the only way to prevent Voldemort from rising again, Severus? Certain sacrifices are necessary to prevent even greater evils."

"There must be other ways to force this being out of the boy's mind."

"I don't think so... Horcruxes can only be destroyed by exterminating their shell entirely."

Dumbledore seemed to know even more about that specific branch of magic than Severus did. Apparently, Albus was far more knowledgeable when it came to dark arts then he let on. Probably the man had known what was wrong with Harry ever since their very first discussion, an Severus felt, once again, furious at the man for always playing games with other human beings. "You won't kill the boy, Albus." Severus repeated, feeling strangely calm. The situation was almost... surreal. Discussing the fate of the Boy-Who-Lived with the leader of the light. Discussing whether Harry would live or die.

"Well, I don't think it's necessary to do it right away. I had even hoped that we could allow him to enjoy a few years of childhood. But after today's events... he's dangerous, Severus. We must prevent him from harming others ever again."

"This is why you told the healers to take him to St Mungo's."

"Yes. I'm not happy about this, but there simply wasn't any other option."

"You have asked me to find means to help the boy. I won't give up on him, Albus."

"I know. But there is hardly a choice, isn't there? Either Harry is locked up permanently, stunned or sedated by other means, warded so that the Horcrux hasn't any chance to hurt any other being should it manage to take over the body, or we kill him. Don't you think that the second option is more... humane?"

Severus considered what Albus had said. Until two days ago, he had never even heard of Horcruxes, but surely there were at least some references to them in certain books. Not in the books you could buy at Flourish&Blots, not even in those the average book-store in Knockturn-Alley sold. But Severus didn't worry, he knew plenty of other locations where he would be able to find anything that had ever been written, no matter how dark. So at least he would be able to find out more about that branch of magic without Albus' interference. And if he told Minerva that their employer was planning to kill Harry, he would have a valuable ally.

"What about the prophecy?" Severus asked, his voice hoarse.

"I have already thought about it. Perhaps... perhaps this is 'the power the Dark Lord knows not'... perhaps Harry would indeed have been able to defeat him by making use of the Horcrux inside his own mind. But then... nobody knows when Voldemort will return, or where he currently is. But we can hardly wait until he reappears... the damage Harry – well, the Horcrux – might do if we wait too long... well, it's simply too risky.  
And of course, it's possible that the only reason why Tom didn't die all those years ago was that his soul was ruptured, and a part of it attached itself to Harry's. Then... perhaps I have misunderstood the prophecy. Perhaps it means that both of them have to die... and if the splinter of Voldemort in Harry is the only thing that prevents him from vanishing for good, it would be even more appropriate to kill it before it ever manages to create a body of its own. Or to overtake Harry completely. But there simply is no means to destroy the Horcrux without killing Harry, too. I'm afraid... yes, Severus, I'm afraid the boy has to die. And soon."

* * *

Half an hour later, a very pensive Severus Snape returned to his quarters.

Albus had tried to convince him that killing Harry really was the only option they had. Oh, the headmaster had said that he was sorry, that he wished there was another way, that he loved Harry and would never agree to take such measures if he saw the slightest chance of finding a different solution, but apparently, for Albus, everything was settled.  
Harry would stay on the closed ward of St Mungo's until they had spoken with a few "trustworthy" people that worked for the ministry, both ensuring that everything they did was legally and that the public wouldn't learn about anything that was going to happen. After all, at Albus had pointed out, they might very well lynch the boy if they thought that he was some sot of reincarnation of Voldemort, and Albus would not let this happen. No, the boy would be killed by a painless and quick Avada Kedavra that would both ensure that Harry didn't suffer from unnecessary pain and that the Horcrux was destroyed completely.

Harry would be released from hospital, and a few days later they would announce that sadly the boy has died due to an illness. The wizarding world would grieve for a few days, but there wouldn't be a mass panic (as it was sure to happen when they told the press that Harry had died during a Death Eater raid or similar dark activities or even the truth about him having part of Voldemord in his mind).

Yes, Albus was quite confident that there wouldn't be any major problems. It was unpleasant, but in war, you simply had to sacrifice certain things – or people – if you wanted to ensure the safety and happiness of mankind in general.

He even believed that Severus would, in the end, help him carrying out the plan. Albus was the leader of the light, after all, and Severus was his spy. So Severus would do everything he, Albus Dumbledore, told him to do, even if sometimes he needed a few days to come to terms with whatever atrocities he had to commit next, wouldn't he?

Well, Severus might be quite willing to endure torture, to risk being killed (to be honest, he rather loved the thrill of never knowing whether he would survive the next Death-Eater-Meeting) and even to kill, on occasions. But he had no intention of harming Harry in any way. Or, more precisely, he would only harm the boy if Harry himself would benefit from the outcome. If he had to hurt the child in order to force the Horcrux out of his mind, he would do so. If he had to resort to violent means to ensure that Harry – or the Horcrux-demon, or whatever it was – wouldn't hurt himself or others again, he wouldn't hesitate.

But killing the boy only because he had the misfortune of getting caught between the fronts of the so-called dark and light side in a war where he didn't even have a clue about what the different party were fighting for?  
No. This was unacceptable. Severus smirked when he thought about what Minerva would say if he told her about Albus' plans. Oh, the headmaster had tried to 'convince' him not to tell anyone, and while Severus wasn't exactly keen on letting anybody in on Harry's secret, he would do so if it meant that it was less likely that Albus would carry out his plans.

And turning a furious McGonagall loose on the old coot would virtually prevent him from doing anything the lioness didn't approve of. There was a reason the head of Gryffindor was Albus' deputy, after all.

Sighing, Severus went to the cabinet where he kept his liquor, helped himself to some firewhiskey and sat down on his settee in front of the fireplace.

Dimly, he remembered that he had wanted to pay a visit to Little Whinging, but after what had happened earlier this day, he couldn't summon the energy to do so. And was it even necessary? After all, he knew what was wrong with Harry, there wasn't really any need to interrogate Petunia or the doctor any more. Shouldn't he concentrate on finding out more about Horcruxes instead?  
But then, perhaps it wouldn't be all that bad if he learnt more about Harry's life before said child had come to Hogwarts. After all, he had only got to know him a mere week ago, and if he really planned to practically abducting him from St Mungo's and to act as some sort of guardian for the boy, protecting him from Albus and the Horcrux at the same time while hopefully finding a way to get rid of that thing without killing him, he would need to know as much about Harry as possible.

Well. Perhaps he should just go to sleep. Maybe tomorrow he would be able to think more rationally, without constantly seeing a blood-stained Harry in front of his inner eye, feeling the small form of the boy in his arms, hearing his screams...

* * *

Harry didn't know what was happening. People came into his vision only to disappear again a few seconds later. He thought he was lying on some sort of soft surface, but it felt different to the beds they normally had in hospitals, they had never been this soft! When he tried to move his head in order to see more than the white ceiling, he discovered that he couldn't move at all. What had they done to him? Never before had he been unable to even turn his head around, or to move his fingers, for that matter. But somehow, they seemed to have paralysed him completely.

Or was he dead? If you were dead, you didn't have a body any more, so it would make sense if you couldn't move... But if he was dead, why did his whole body seem to be on fire? It hurt, he wanted to scream, but not even his mouth was working.

Dimly, Harry heard a male voice shouting something, but he felt too woozy to understand anything.

The next thing he knew was that his head hurt even more than it had when the medi-witch had cast that spell on him, a couldn't bear it, he wanted them to stop, but he couldn't move, he couldn't scream... and then everything went black.

* * *

**Next Chapter: Petunia meets Severus and we have a more detailed look at St Mungo's...**

_Additional Notes: Well, I hope that this chapter has explained a few things, above all the issue with the Sorting Hat and Ron's prejudices against Slytherin. Hopefully, Ron's attitude istn't completely unbelievable, but I wanted to try to write a loyal (if a bit clueless) Ron. _


	23. An aunt, a mother and a guardian

_I don't own Harry Potter_

_A few words about the Molly, Ron and Dumbledore... I try not to change the general behaviour/attitude of the characters, but I want to emphasize different things than JKR has done. Ron is a bit more loyal, Molly is traumatized because of the loss of her brothers during the first war (I always wondered why she was so calm about it in the books), Dumbledore sees Harry even more as a means to an end than in canon and Snape is only a tiny bit more protective. I can't promise not to make any mistakes, for example, the reasoning of Poppy and Snape not to give Harry his medicine any longer was rather poor and I think I should have thought about it a bit more thoroughly, but I just want to assure you that I have thought about how to portray the different characters and that I try to avoid complete OOC!  
However, if you have any question or comment or criticism about the characters, feel free to point it out to me, I'm not easily offended;)_

* * *

**Chapter 23 - An Aunt, a mother and a guardian  
**

.

Apparently, going to sleep had been the right decision, because when Severus Snape woke up early the next morning, his mind had arrived at a conclusion as to what to do next. And when he entered the Great Hall (which was much more quiet than usual, he noticed) for breakfast, seeing the headmaster twinkling at him as if nothing had happened, he felt a grim determination taking possession of him. It didn't matter what the old coot was thinking, it didn't matter if he had to leave Hogwarts in order to carry out his plans, he _would _make sure that Harry wouldn't fall victim to neither the headmaster nor the Dark Lord – or what was left of him.

And it wasn't as if Dumbledore could blackmail him. He wasn't exactly poor, and if the man decided to sack him, he could always earn a living by brewing potions. Yes, it might be due to Albus' testimony that the wizengamot had, after the war, acquitted him on all accounts, but while Severus would always feel grateful for having escaped Azkaban, it wasn't as if the old coot could just revoke the statement he had made ten years ago. And even if he did (which was unlikely, since it would cast a dubious light on Albus himself), there was simply no way to reopen his case, as the verdict was legally valid and even the sometimes rather medieval legal system of wizarding Britain made it impossible for someone to be charged twice for the same crime.

So, no, Severus wasn't worried about Albus. Of course, the man would try to interfere with anything the Potion Master would do that didn't suit his plans, but after so many years of serving first one mad-man and than another one, Severus was well able to deal with all the manipulation that was sure to come.

Fortunately, he had only two classes today, both of them in the morning, so he could spend the entire afternoon – and even the night, if necessary – in Surrey, interrogating Harry's family and the doctors that had treated him. Because this seemed to be the most sensible thing to do first, before he planned how to get the boy out of St Mungo's. Petunia and the other people responsible for Harry during his stay in the Muggle-world knew more about the boy than anyone in the wizarding world, they had, after all, looked after him (and apparently managed to keep him alive and out of jail) for almost ten years! So surely they would be able to provide Severus with plenty of information about how to handle Harry, how to care for him and whatever else he needed to take into account. Of course, they didn't know that it was magic of the darkest kind rather than some sort of mental illness that had led to Harry acting the way he did, but when it came to dealing with him in every day life, it didn't matter, did it?

During breakfast, Albus tried to make polite conversation, but the Potion Master barely listened to the ramblings, too preoccupied with going through a mental list of people he could contact in order to get more information regarding Horcruxes. It wasn't as if he just could walk into a random book-store in Knockturn Alley and asking whether they sold any books about how to split one's soul. And while Lucius probably _had _the biggest collection of books about any form of dark magic imaginable, Severus would only ask him for help if nothing else worked, as Lucius wasn't exactly that kind of person you trusted with something important.

In the end, he decided that there was only one person that was both enjoying Severus trust and likely to have a certain degree of knowledge about that kind of magic he was looking for.

So before he went back to the dungeons, he made a detour to the owlery and send a short note to the witch in question, asking for a meeting as soon as possible. It wouldn't do to include further information in the letter, and he knew that Audrey wouldn't expect him to write her in advance why he wanted to meet her anyway. The old woman was perhaps the most paranoid person Severus had ever met, it just suited him. And he knew that she would never blackmail him (or Harry) with anything she might learn when he spoke to her. She just wasn't the type of person that took advantage of other people's private affairs.

* * *

When Severus apparated into a small, dark alley near Privet Drive, he wondered whether he should have asked Petunia for a meeting beforehand. After all, it wasn't exactly polite to just ring at someone's door and demand information, especially if the person in question had hated you with passion throughout your youth. Not that the Potion Master cared about whether he was polite or not, but it was _he _who needed the woman to cooperate, and offending Petunia didn't seem a good way to start such a delicate conversation.

But then he shrugged – it wasn't as if the woman would welcome an owl either, at least if she hadn't changed completely - and went towards the end of the alley. He had caught McGonagall in the morning and she had provided Severus with Harry's records that both contained the address of the Dursley's and particularities about the hospital Harry had been treated at, but he still needed at least ten minutes until he had found the right street, and a few more to finding the right number. How managed the Muggles not to constantly getting lost with everything looking the same?  
Finally, however, the Potion Master rang at the door of Number 4, Privet Drive and it was only a few seconds before a thin, horse-faced woman opened the door.

"How can I -" Petunia stopped mid-sentence, blinking at the man that stood on her threshold. There was something about him... but nobody she (or Vernon) knew would dress like this, all black, like... a Satanist! But Dudley couldn't... could he? Her poor Duddybums?! But no, wait... perhaps... "Who are you?" She demanded, perfectly aware that she was rather rude, but it didn't matter, did it?Because this man surely wasn't a normal person...

"Petunia. You don't remember? Severus Snape, I think you might-" But he was interrupted by a muffled screech.

"Youuuuu!" Petunia almost sagged with relief, at least her Duddy wasn't in danger. "What do you want, Snape?"

"I'm here because of your nephew, Petunia, as you can imagine. But perhaps it would be more appropriate to discuss this indoors?" Severus asked, half-expecting to have to force his way inside the house. But to his great surprise, the woman stepped back and motioned him in.

"So _finally_ one of you are coming, now that's too late anyway?! Well, come in, then, I don't need the neighbours seeing you! My husband and son aren't at home but I suppose it doesn't matter anyway, does it?"

Severus shook his head. "No, I wanted to talk to you. I'm sure you are aware of your nephew's... difficulties?"

"_Aware? Aware of his difficulties? _Who do you think had to put up with the boy for the last ten years?! What were you thinking when you left him on _our _doorstep, with no means to contact anybody of your lot?!"

"I don't know what exactly happened that night, but I think Albus Dumbledore – he's the headmaster and was responsible for Harry's placement with you-"

"I know who he is!" Petunia interrupted, blushing only so slightly, "and he seems not to have changed at all since the time Lily was- ... destroying a family like this, it's just so typical of your wizard-lot!"

"I'm not sure I know what you are referring to, but I gather that you weren't overly happy with finding the boy in front of your door?" Severus sneered. Petunia hadn't changed at all.

"Of course not! Well, at first he wasn't too horrible, I guess... a nuisance, yes, but not too bothersome. But then he got insane and we had to answer all kind of questions, even the police was here after the boy almost killed himself! Can you imagine what the neighbours were thinking?! They kept talking for month! And then we had to talk to a _shrink, _as if there was something wrong with our family! Oh, and just last week, when we thought that finally we were safe from all that people from the madhouse, they called us _again _because apparently, your paper doesn't work! They even threatened to inform the authorities if we wouldn't hand in a proper one during the following weeks, so you _will _provide me with some sort of form because I won't have you make us out to be some disgusting child abusers!"

"What are you speaking of, Petunia?"

"I personally told the giant that we needed some sort of records to prove the boy's doctor that we haven't just abandoned him! They sent some, saying that the papers would show exactly what the person reading them would needed to know, but they didn't work – well, they did, but the copies didn't!"

"You have gotten the documents for the muggle-borns, then? Well, I can assure you they work, there have been no complaints from any other family!"

"Maybe because they didn't make copies?"

"What do you mean – wait..." Severus paused. He had read about those devices that enabled muggles to make copies of whole books even without magic – but he had never heard of them trying to copy _magical _documents. "You are trying to say that someone made copies of the paper McGonagall send you?"

"Of course they made copies! Haven't you lot made any progress at all since Lily went to school?!"

"Yes, but... well, I don't think anybody has ever thought about someone actually trying to duplicate magical documents with muggle-means... Well, but I don't think it'll be a problem, if only..." Severus fell silent when a horrifying thought struck him. It surely wasn't difficult to deal with one or two cases of muggle-authorities who had tried (and naturally failed) to made copies of the documents Hogwarts send to any muggle-born, but what if this had been going on for years, or even decades? He had no clue when it had become a custom for muggles to make copies of any single paper they got their hands on, but what if there were thousands of empty papers in the archives of them (as the standard Hogwarts-paper was by no means the only one that wizards used to deal with muggle-authorities)? And what if someone noticed?! Or had they already noticed this... inconsistency a long time ago and had started to investigate and perhaps even found out...? Muggles weren't stupid, no matter what some purebloods might think, Severus had first-hand experience of what they were capable of...

He forced the uneasiness back. He hadn't come to Surrey to deal with muggle-wizard-relations but to find out more about Harry. There were other people that could deal with the mess they had created by not keeping in touch with the muggle-world during the last 30 years. The Potion Master almost smirked when he thought about the havoc it would wreak on the ministry as soon as he informed them what he had discovered.

"Well, I'll make sure that someone will remedy the situation."

"See that you do, I won't have you lot causing even more trouble than you already have!" Petunia snapped.

"Well, then perhaps we could focus on Harry? I need to know what happened to him, everything!"

"Why? What has he done this time?"

"He was brought to the wizarding hospital 24 hours ago because he and a fellow student sustained serious injuries when Harry got hold on a knife. Currently, it is unclear what will happen to him." Severus told the woman facing him and was surprised when he saw her looking worried, although she tried her best to keep her face expressionless.

"He will... I mean, will he... survive?"

"Yes. His injuries weren't life-threatening, but as he attacked another student, the headmaster decided it wouldn't be safe to keep him at Hogwarts."

"So he can't stay in the school? But we won't take him back, no, not with him already attacking other people, it's much too dangerous! He will have to go to an institution, then, as Dr Green already suggested..."

"I don't think it would be wise to send him to any institution led by muggles, Petunia. The boy isn't mentally ill, as it appears..."

"So it's something _freakish?_! And you lot never bothered to inform us about this little fact?! Can you imagine what we had to put up with, what the boy did to us?!" Petunia all but yelled.

Well, Severus could actually understand her. The situation had been less then ideal, and when he thought about what Harry had had to endure while staying with his family... to say nothing of the possibility that, if Harry had been treated right away, the whole mess could have been avoided... well, he couldn't change the past. "Harry seems to suffer from an... injury, for lack of a better term, he sustained in the attack that led to the death of his parents. Of Lily." Severus swallowed. For ten years now, he had tried his best to come to terms with what had happened, but he still felt as if he couldn't breath each time he thought about Lily. "For whatever reasons, the headmaster didn't deem it necessary to have a healer taking a look at Harry before he placed the boy with you, nor did he provide you with any means to contact St Mungo's – the wizarding hospital – should the need arise so I'm afraid-"

"The entire time we had to put up with people snooping around in our private affairs because of something your lot has done to the boy?!" Petunia was outraged.

"Yes. It's unfortunate, but as I said, I don't know why Dumbledore acted the way he did. However, when Harry arrived at Hogwarts, it became apparent that he had certain... difficulties, and I was able to determine that residual effects from the attack are responsible for his problems. Unfortunately, before I could do anything about it, this... incident occurred, and I couldn't prevent the boy from being send to St Mungo's."

For once, Severus was grateful that Petunia refused to have a proper talk about anything magical, as he hadn't known how to explain what had – apparently – happened to Harry. How did you tell someone who despised magic anyway that, for ten year, a part of one of the vilest wizards that had every existed had been present in her home, however unwittingly?  
But even so she didn't know what exactly was wrong with her nephew, Petunia seemed to be shaken by what had happened to Harry, and she didn't put up much of fight when Severus (again) demanded an account of what had happened during those almost ten years Harry had lived with her.

And after the Potion Master had listened to her talking about the first incident the Dursleys had witnessed (he thought it unlikely that it had been the first one at all), the time Harry almost killed himself, the weeks he had refused to eat (well, being prevented from eating, Severus mentally corrected the woman) and about several other occasions the Horcrux had made its presence known, after hearing all of this, the Potion Master couldn't help but to feel pity for the woman in front of him.

Later, of course, Severus wasn't so sure any more that Petunia had indeed told him _everything, _especially about her and her husbands treatment of Harry. He couldn't quite believe that Petunia – or at least the Petunia he had known during their childhood – had been desperate when Harry had refused to eat, that she hadn't been able to sleep out of worry for her nephew.  
More likely, she had been embarrassed at what the neighbours might think of her and her family, and, as she had practically admitted herself, that the doctors might question the picture of the loving and caring family she had tried to draw.  
But well, Harry wouldn't return anyway – at least not if Severus had any say in the matter, and he was rather determined to have one – so it didn't really matter any more, did it? Yes, if he had known sooner, the Potion Master would have investigated much more thoroughly, he hadn't risked exposing Harry to a neglectful environment, but neither would he have uprooted the boy from his home if his family had actually cared about him.

But with the knowledge he had gained during the last few days sending Harry back was out of question – if the Horcrux could do so much damage even when magical powerful adults were present, he didn't dare to think about what could have happened if such an incident had occurred while Harry still being with his relatives.

"He won't come back, will he?" Petunia asked after several minutes of silence.

"No, I'm afraid this isn't possible. Or at least not until I have found means to, eh, heal Harry from this condition." _If _he would find something that would banish the Horcrux, and if he would get hands on Harry before Albus could proceed with _his_ plan, Severus added (silently, though, since he didn't think Petunia would welcome such an information).

"I won't have him back here at all!" The woman snapped, "he has done enough damage to my family, your lot are responsible for him being even more freakish than Lily, so you will deal with him! If I tell Vernon what the boy has done this time... well, he won't allow him to come back either, even if he _does_ take his medication!"

This last comment made Severus almost wince. The medicine! He had completely forgotten about the medicine! "I guess it's important that he takes these drugs, then?" He inquired.

"Of course it is! He's impossible to handle if he didn't take the meds, and if it hadn't been for those additional pills we could make him take when he was completely uncontrollable, the boy couldn't have stayed here at all!"

Severus felt guilty. Then it was _his _fault that Harry had hurt both himself and Ronald Weasley, it was his fault that the child was in St Mungo's. If he only had known sooner, if he only had spoken to Petunia right away... but he couldn't change it now, and it wouldn't help anybody – least of all Harry – if he dwelt on missed chances.  
And then... he doubted that muggles had indeed invented a substance that could control Horcruxes – beings they didn't even know about, that shouldn't even exist inside a living soul! So it wasn't even sure whether continuing giving Harry the real pills would have made a difference. Severus knew that this wasn't really an excuse for his and Poppy's carelessness, though...  
Well, he would have to talk to the psychiatrist anyway, perhaps he would find out more about what those substances where supposed to do, and how they might have affected Harry. It would be important to have as much information about those drugs and its effects as possible, perhaps they might even help him when it came do dealing with Harry in every day life, and he would have to take them into account when searching for means to get rid of the Horcrux, too. After all, they might have altered Harry's mind, the way it worked, and perhaps they had even done something to the Horcrux, even if it had only been accidentally.

"Well, I need to speak with his doctor anyway, I'll make sure to ask him about those pills too. Our medi-witch... and, ehm, I, weren't sure whether to give the boy muggle-drugs..."

"You are talking to Dr Green?" Petunia asked, suspiciously.

"Yes, of course." Severus frowned.

"_And what are you going to tell him_? I won't have you associate my family with your lot! Besides, he won't believe you anyway, he might just think you're as psychotic as Harry is!" Petunia sneered.

"Well..." Severus hadn't given much thought to that matter. Originally, he hadn't considered it necessary to tell the doctor something about magic or anything that belonged to their world at all, but if he really wanted to understand what had happened to Harry during all those years, if he really wanted to know whether the muggles had found something helpful that wizards didn't know about, it might be better to be more... open about everything. After all, the doctor was some kind of specialist for people like Harry – well, for people like Harry in the muggle-world - so he might know things neither Severus nor Poppy (or any healer from St Mungo's) had taken into account. And if Harry might benefit from him... well, stretching the Statue of Secrecy a little bit, he would do so. He could always obliviate the doctor, couldn't he?

"You don't need to worry, I'll make sure he won't bother you. But this brings me to another thing I need to discuss with you. If you're willing... you're the official guardians of Harry. However, since I'm responsible for the boy just now, and for his- well, his treatment, it would be rather helpful if you'd sign over guardianship to me. I mean-" he hastily added when Petunia opened his mouth, presumably to protest (it _was_ rather unusual for a teacher to take over guardianship, Severus had to admit), "only for the next few month. I won't take the boy from you permanently, I only want to make sure that he'll receive the best possible treatment, and it would be much easier if I had official guardianship over him."

"But the letter – there was a letter with the boy, it said that we wouldn't be safe if we didn't take him in!" Petunia protested. While the offer was rather tempting, she wouldn't put her family at risk only to get rid of the boy!

"You mean the blood-wards? They only provide protection against the Dark Lord and his followers, and since a part of him has been present -" Severus stopped. No, he wouldn't tell Petunia this particular detail. But honestly, it wasn't possible for wards to function properly if part of the danger they had been set against had been under their protection, too, and for so long, even! Severus wasn't an expert when it came to wards, but he was sure of this. Had Albus ever thought about this? Would he have endangered Harry under the pretence of blood-wards only to have him stay with his family? But _why? _It didn't make sense! But perhaps... well, perhaps the headmaster had only learned about the Horcrux when he had talked to the Sorting Hat, just as he had claimed...  
Severus almost growled in frustration. Why couldn't the old coot be open, why couldn't he just tell him everything, rather than only divulging one bit of information every now and then?

"Well, what are you trying to tell me?" Petunia interrupted Severus' thoughts.

"The wards – they cannot possibly provide protection against the threads they were set for. I don't know why Albus told you... well, but rest assured, you'll be much safer if Harry doesn't stay here."

Half an hour later, the Potion Master and new guardian of Harry James Potter left Number 4 Privet Drive, rather satisfied at what he had accomplished. After he had explained about the wards and hinted that the very wizard that had killed Lily had hurt Harry far more severely than everyone had believed, and that due to this 'injury' the wards were all but useless, it hadn't taken much convincing to get Petunia to sign over guardianship for Harry. She had not even asked whether she would be able to see the boy again, and Severus could only assume how living with the Dursleys must have been for Harry.

Severus briefly wondered whether he should return to Hogwarts, as he had already accomplished more than he had dared to hope. He hadn't imagined it being this easy to convince Petunia to give up on her nephew. Well, he surely wouldn't complain. Of course, it was... odd, he Severus Snape, arch-enemy of the boy's father, being his new guardian, but he hoped he would get used to the idea. It wasn't as if he had to love the boy only because he was responsible for him. He was only doing this because it was the only way to make sure that someone – he – at least tried to safe Harry from the fate Albus had planned for him. He didn't know whether he would succeed, he didn't know whether it was possible to eject the Horcrux out of the boy's head without condemning him to a fate perhaps even worse than death. But he would try. Yes, he would try, and if he would fail, than he would make sure that Harry didn't suffer longer than necessary.

Severus shivered when he thought about what lay ahead of him, that, in the end, he might be the one who would cast the fatal curse at the child – but he would do what would be the best for Harry, the boy deserved at least one person who was prepared to fight for _him_, and not for some dubious greater good.

And with that thought, the Potion Master turned into the narrow alleyway again, cast a last glance towards the house Harry had lived in for ten years, and then, in the blink of an eye, he was gone.

* * *

Harry slowly became aware of his surroundings. There were several different voices, but he couldn't place any of them. He was lying, again, but the blanket didn't felt like the one he had in his dorm but more like the one he had had when staying in hospital. But it didn't smell like hospital at all.

Slowly, he opened his eyes, only to discover that, apparently, one of his eyes was covered with some sort of bandage. He didn't know what to make of it.  
Well, at least they hadn't covered both of his eyes again, like this one time when he had been brought to hospital years ago, and he was able to make out a large, white room. Several forms – also in white – were hurrying from one end to the other and back again it. Some areas seemed to divided from the main room by curtains or something similar, but without his glasses, Harry was unable to tell where exactly he was.

Nobody seemed to pay him any attention, though, and he was relieved that he might actually be able to figure out where he was or what had happened before he needed to answer difficult questions. Because this was how it normally went when he woke up without knowing what had happened, there were always people that tried to ask him all kind of stupid questions.

Hogwarts. He had been in Hogwarts, yes, and there had been Professor Snape who had promised to help him fighting against the demon. And Ron had become his first real friend. One by one, the events of the previous week came back to Harry. The last thing he remembered, though, was sitting down to have lunch in the Great Hall. Then, everything was blank.

Most likely, the demon had tried to get him again, the boy thought. He wasn't stupid, after all, and after (almost) all his life being targeted by that thing, Harry recognized the signs.

But he wasn't in the hospital-wing either. It wasn't white, and it wasn't nearly as large as this room seemed to be! But then _where_ was he? Had they brought him away? Was he still with wizards or had they sent him back to a normal hospital, realizing that Harry was too freakish even for them?

Harry tried to shift in order to see whether there was anything he recognized on the other side of the room, and it was then that he became aware of two different things. First of all, he was lying in a bed. Well, he shouldn't be surprised, they always put him in a bed when the demon had hurt him, but nevertheless it upset him. He hated lying in a bed! The more pressing matter, though, was that it was really difficult to move. It didn't feel as if he was tied down, it rather felt as if his whole body had become incredibly heavy, and only with great effort he managed to turn his head.

Had the demon hurt him this badly?

Harry felt his breath quickening. He mustn't panic now! If he panicked, they only would make him lying in bed even longer! He needed to stay calm, he needed to show them that he wouldn't do anything if they allowed him to get up!

Just then, one of the white figures approached his bed, having seen that Harry had moved. "Ah, hello Mr Potter, I see you're awake. I need to cast a few diagnostic-spells at you, all right?" A female voice asked cheerfully.

"No..." Harry whispered, his voice barely audible. He didn't want someone casting a spell on him, spells hurt!

"I'm afraid I must do so, Mr Potter, I'm sorry, it'll be over in no time!"

As soon as the voice had died down, Harry became aware of tingle all over his body. It didn't hurt, though, it just felt... odd. A few seconds later, the voice announced that everything was all right (though Harry didn't know what she was speaking of, he was lying in a bed in an unfamiliar room, so apparently, nothing was all right!), and when the white figure started to move away again, Harry, bewildered that the woman seemed to have no intention of explaining anything or telling Harry why he couldn't move, called after her. "Uhm, I can't move..."

"Yes, dear, of course not! We can't have you wandering away, can we? No, this way, we can be sure that you stay in bed, and if you need the toilet, just ask one of the nurses."

Hospital, so, Harry thought. "Uhm, can I see Dr Green?"

"What do you want to see, Mr Potter? I'm sorry, but I have never heard of something like this."

"I'm not... I'm not in the hospital Dr Green works?"

"You're at St Mungo's, dear, Janus-Thickey-Ward, spell-damage. Well, of course, you haven't been injured by a spell, but since it's the only closed ward St Mungo's has, there wasn't really another option."

"It's... it's a wizard-hospital, then?"

"Of course, dear, what else?" The woman answered, as if Harry's question had been a stupid one. Didn't she know that there were normal hospitals, too?

"How long will I have to stay?" Harry asked, dreading the answer.

"Well, I don't know... as long as you need to, I'd say."

Harry swallowed. He knew that such an answer normally meant he had to stay in hospital for several month. "I don't want to lie down. I don't like lying in beds."

"That's unfortunate, dear, but you'll have to put up with it. It's too dangerous to allow you to move around freely."

"But – I won't do anything! I promise, I won't do anything!" Harry tried his best not to cry, he knew that if he started to cry or panicked, his chances of getting free were all but non-existent.

"No, Mr Potter, we can't let you out of this bed, you have just to put with it. And now I need to tend to another patient, you aren't the only one who needs our help, you know! I suggest you stay put and try to calm down, but if you don't manage, we will ensure that you do, rest assured! " And with another threatening glance the woman in white closes – Harry still didn't know who or what exactly she were – turned around. She had barely made two steps, though, when Harry started to cry.

He had tried his best. He really had tried, and he knew that he would have to pay for his outburst, but he was just an eleven year-old boy and now he just couldn't hold back the tears any longer. "Pleeeeaaseee - " Harry sobbed, "pleeease l-let me-eee goo-oo, I do ev-every-everything!"

"Mr Potter, stop acting up at once!" The woman demanded-

But Harry continued crying. He didn't know why such things always happened to him, why it was _him _that constantly got locked up and tied to a bed – it didn't matter whether it was done by magic or by physical restraints. He just wanted to be left alone, he wanted to be free, he couldn't bear the thought of being hold captive again, he couldn't, he just _couldn't_!

At one point, Harry started screaming, alternatively begging the woman to let him go and hurling insults at her, but he didn't really comprehend what he was doing or what was going on, he was too focused on breathing, on staying alive, in not getting mad – because this was what would happen now, he just knew it, he couldn't take it any more, it was tearing him apart, he wanted to die, for the first time in his life he, Harry, really wanted to die because this was better than becoming mad, better than being kept in captivity for the rest of his life -

Harry didn't notice the pair of grey eyes that were staring at him from just a few feet away.

* * *

**Next Chapter: Snape talks to Dr Green who is not happy about what happened to Harry...  
**

_oh, and we learn about who the 'grey eyes' belong to! Anybody having a clue?!_


	24. Unexpected Visitors

_I don't own Harry Potter_

* * *

**Chapter 24 - Unexpected Visitors  
**

'

"Mr Snape?" A male voice asked, "I'm Dr Green, you asked to see me?"

Severus was startled at suddenly being addressed. He had been standing at a window that overlooked part of the rather large hospital-complex, deep in thoughts, for more than half an hour now and had just started to wonder whether he should return to Hogwarts and meet Harry's former doctor another time, as he was already running late.  
It had taken him some time to find the right ward, not to mention that he had only barely avoided being seen by a muggle when he had apparated from Privet Drive to the hospital Harry had stayed at so many times, and it was already 4 o'clock in the afternoon. But then, he was confident that Minerva would find an excuse for his absence if he didn't return until dinner was served, and it was unlikely that Albus would get suspicious.

The Potion Master turned around. "Yes. I'm sorry for just coming without having an appointment, but the matter I wish to discuss with you is rather urgent. I would really appreciate it if you could spare a few minutes for me." Well, of course, it would take more than a few minutes to get all the information about Harry he wanted to have, and it was unlikely that the doctor would be willing to cooperate without asking quite a few questions himself, but Severus didn't thought it necessary to mention this. And if the man proved even more reluctant than he anticipated him to be, well, he would just return another time – or resort to certain spells, that was.

"Oh it's all right, it has been a rather quiet day. If you would just join me into my office, it's more comfortable than talking in the hall, I guess..." And he motioned Severus inside his office.

Although the doctor had tried to hide his surprise, Severus could tell that the man was unsure of what to make of him. Well, yes, it _might _be unusual for muggles to dress all in black, in addition to having black hair, black eyes and a rather pale skin, but the Potion Master hadn't thought much about it when he had transfigured his robes. But it wasn't as if the things he had to discuss with the man (who just seated himself behind a rather impressive desk with to chairs in front of it that looked almost as plush as the ones Albus had in his office) were any less disturbing than his outwards appearance might be to an unsuspecting muggle, so Severus just shrugged and sat down on one of the chairs.

"So, how can I help you, Mr Snape?" Dr Green asked.

"I'm here about Harry Potter." Severus noticed the eyes of the doctor widen in surprise.

"He's all right, isn't he? I mean, he has stayed here longer than most other kids, and I must admit I was a bit worried when his aunt suddenly decided to send him away. Not that I don't understand it, the poor boy was getting worse and worse, but she was always very adamant about keeping Harry at home, it was just this summer when... well, but I didn't mean to interrupt you..." Dr Green added apologetically.

Well, at least the muggle seemed to be rather fond of Harry, Severus thought, even if he talked far too much to the Potion Masters liking. "Well, yes, I'm one of the boy's new teachers and -" but again, Severus didn't come any further.

"Teachers? I don't thing Harry's well enough to actually attend school, you see-"

This time, it was Severus who cut the other man short. "And I'm also his guardian."

This statement was met with complete silence. After several awkward seconds in which Dr Green only stared at the Potion Master, he manage to asks: "You're – what?! But... I mean, why?"

Severus inwardly groaned at the inarticulacy of the muggle. "I'm Mr Potter's new guardian. I have the papers here, if you don't believe me, signed by Petunia Dursley herself. I have already taken care of Harry during the last week, but after yesterday events I thought it necessary to make more permanently arrangements. I only have the boy's best interest at heart, unlike certain other people. But since Harry's treatment is now my responsibility, I would like you to tell me everything that has happened during the past few years. And I mean _everything_!" He added for good measures.

"Well, this is certainly... unexpected. I think you understand that I need to see the guardianship-papers, I'm a doctor and bound to maintain confidentiality, after all. And I need Harry's file, I think.. – oh, but _if _your claims are true and Mrs Dursley has transferred guardianship to you, you'll hopefully be able to provide me with information about Harry's current whereabouts, as our photocopier seems to have stopped working when Mr Dursley gave me the records a few weeks ago. I have already phoned her about it, and she told me she would ring up Harry's new institution, but apparently, this is no longer necessary..." And with that Dr Green stood up, turned around and opened a rather large chest of drawers where Severus could see myriads of flat files. While the doctor got out what was probably the thickest file at all, Severus produced the newly acquired guardianship-papers.

"Yes, she mentioned something like this." The Potion Master said drily as soon as the doctor had turned around again. "These are the guardianship-papers, I think you'll find them to your satisfaction." And he handed over the papers.

"Hm... hm, all right... yes..." Dr Green scanned the papers. "Yes, everything seems to be all right. Well, I must admit I'm curious what led to Mrs Dursley giving up on the boy on such a short notice, perhaps you could enlighten me what led to this turn of events?"

Now was the moment he had to decide what to tell the man. Severus had thought about it, and had come to the conclusion that telling as much of the truth as possible was likely the best course of action. If he wasn't truthful, he might miss the chance to get vital information out of this man, and he couldn't afford this. Depending on the man's reaction to what Severus would tell him, he would decide later whether it was necessary to obliviate him or not.  
Dr Green might not be a relative of Harry, but he certainly had been more involved in a wizards life than many relatives of muggleborns were, and if that lot was trustworthy enough, why should he withhold information from a man that might very well be able to help him saving Harry's life? Additionally, only because the doctor wasn't someone high up in the government it didn't mean that people would take him any more seriously if he revealed something about the wizarding world than they would take their prime minister or other people that were informed about magic because of their occupation, some judges or secret service man, for example.

"The boy – Harry – he isn't ill. No, please let me explain, I assure you you'll be able to ask all of your questions after I have finished." Severus had raised his hand when Dr Green had started to speak, this conversation would take weeks if he didn't get the muggle to listen to him without constantly interrupting him. To his great surprise, the other man didn't protest any further and just listened to the Potion Master when he explained about Harry's first week at Hogwarts – leaving magic (and anything that couldn't be explained without the concept of magic) aside, for now.

"So Harry has injured another child? Oh my... but both children will survive, you said?"

"Yes. But Harry had to be taken to hospital again and currently it is... unclear whether he will be able to return to Hogwarts, as the headmaster is, understandably, worried that something like this might happen again."

"Yes, it's unfortunate... well, I hoped that Harry would benefit from the new facility, it's a pity. Do you want me to send his file to the hospital the boy is staying at? The doctors there might want to know about what treatments he received throughout the years, what substances we have already tried..."

"Well, about the medicine... our medi-wi- eh, our school-nurse decided not to give Harry his medication any more because-"

"WHAT? But – you mean she just stopped giving him the medication entirely?!" Dr Green asked incredulously. When he received a nod from the Potion Master, he continued, clearly upset. "I will report this to the NHS! Do you have any idea how dangerous it can be for someone like Harry who has taken these pills for years to just stop taking them overnight?! I can't believe it, what kind of facility is this? I would never have allowed Harry to be sent there if I had known... but the records Mrs Dursley showed me seemed to be fine! Well, I'll see to all the children in your care being removed from that – that Hogwash immediately!"

"Will you just listen to me, man?!" Severus snapped, irritated that the muggle was reprimanding him for stopping to give Harry all these poisonous substances. "Harry isn't ill, and the medication you were drugging him with is likely to have caused more harm than it might have helped the boy! Do you have any idea how benzodiazepine or Halolperidol can affect a wizard?"

Well, this wasn't quite like Severus had planned to broach the subject. However, after the initial confusion (when Dr Green had become all friendly, had smiled at him and asked him whether he wanted to accompany him to another part of the hospital where several people where bound to be quite interested in what Severus had to say about those wizards), the sudden appearance of several mice and a few threats, the doctor was willing to listen to the Potion Master's explanations.

He briefly outlined what exactly Hogwarts was and that there was an entire magical community, including a ministry, rather than some odd freaks who believed in magic. He continued telling the gobsmacked man about potion and why he and the medi-witch (a term that had Dr Green chuckle) were so reluctant about dosing a child with muggle-medication in general and psychopharmaca in particular. Then he tried to explain (in very simple terms) about mind-magic and how he accidentally had discovered that Harry suffered from residual effects of a dark spell that had been used on him when he had been a very small child.

"But – how do you know that Harry is... is magical? Mrs Dursley never mentioned that there might be something special about him, and surely as his closest living relative she would have known? And if Harry is a wizard, why did he never just – well, just transfigured one of us into a toad when he didn't want to take his medicine or when we had to restrain him again? It's just not possible! You must have made a mistake!"

"Even as wizard you can't just do anything! Why do you think the children have to attend schools like Hogwarts? They have to learn using their magic correctly before they can do anything like transfiguring animate to animate objects – transforming a man into a toad." Severus elaborated when Dr Green stared at him blankly. "Of course, most children have several bouts of accidental magic long before they are old enough to come to Hogwarts, but they can't do things willingly! And Harry – well, after what I have seen in his head it is quite possible that those substances you dosed him with have suppressed his magic entirely... there are magical substances that are quite similar to a few of your medicines, and they are used in potions that can prevent a wizard from accessing his magic. They are illegal, of course, cutting a wizard of from his own magic can be quite dangerous, as you can imagine, so perhaps you understand why it was necessary for Harry to come off all of those substances!"

"What's this, accidental magic? And how can psychopharmaca suppress it?" Dr Green asked curiously. He _was _scientist, after all. "And if you're right about all of this and the drugs used to treat psychoses and similar illnesses can indeed affect a wi- wizard so that he is no longer able to do this magic, how do you know that all this magic-stuff isn't a mental illness itself? After all, there are several reports about people who claimed having been hexed or having encountered magical people or magical creatures like dragons. But all of these people, or at least the ones I have read about, have been successfully treated against hallucinations and are once again able to lead a normal life!"

This time, it was Severus' time to stare at the other man as if the latter had lost his mind. "Have you ever considered that these people didn't have hallucinations but were telling the truth?"

"Of course not, I mean... do you honestly suggest that there are _dragons? _And does your lot just go around hexing unsuspecting people?"

"Of course there are dragons, where do you think all these legends come from? I don't know about wizards casting spells on muggles – non-magical people – but normally, the ministry deals with them, as there are laws against it. And of course, there are Obliviators, they are responsible for making muggles forget anything magical they have encountered."

"Let me get this straight, your lot meddles with people's brain when you learn about an ordinary human being having witnessed anything magically? You just go around altering people's memory?"

"Yes, of course, how else-"

"And you have never thought about what might happen if your hexes go somehow wrong? Or if you forget to erase someone's memory? Have you never considered what consequences this might have on people unfortunate enough to encounter one of you?" Dr Green seemed really upset, something Severus hadn't taken into account. Sure, most muggles were rather... emotional when they learned about magic being real, but the Potion Master had never heard of anybody worrying about memory-charms. Well, but then, he had never heard of muggles getting treated against hallucinations because of having caught a glimpse of something from the wizarding world either.

"Are you aware that, if everything you have told me is true, your folk is responsible for a significant amount of normal and healthy people being dosed with strong psychopharmaca or even admitted to a closed long-term ward?" Dr Green asked, his voice sounding cold.

"No. I must admit I have never thought about this possibility." Severus answered, feeling rather stupid. Was it possible that the ministry had just overlooked something like this? Yes, he knew that most wizards didn't really care about what was going on in the muggle-world, but he had always assumed that the people working for the muggle liason office dealt with matters like this. What was the point in having an entire department devoted to muggle-wizard-relationships if they had missed out on something like this, something that had likely cost many muggles their health, if not their very life?

"If your wizards hold us normal people in such contempt, what do you want from me? Why have you told me all of this? If I have understood correctly, Harry was harmed by some sort of spell when he was still a baby and nobody bothered to treat his injury, resulting in him being unsuccessfully treated for psychosis for several years. I don't think there is anything a normal psychiatrist with no knowledge about magic can do to help Harry."

Severus took a deep breath. "There is a wizard – one of the most powerful and influential wizards alive, who was also responsible for Harry not being taken to a healer after this... this incident – who has decided that the... well, that the damage caused by the failed spell all those years ago is too severe and too dangerous and that the only option is to kill Harry."

"_Kill him_?" The doctor whispered.

"Yes. And since I intend to prevent him from carrying out his plan, I have hoped to get your assistance. Harry is currently 'treated' on the closed ward of St Mungo's – the wizarding hospital – but since I'm the boy's guardian now, I might actually be able to remove him from that... institution. However, I'll need to know exactly what to expect with Harry being in my care, and I need to know more about those substances you muggle use for treating people with mental illnesses. As far as I know, Harry has never acted violently towards any other person besides himself while he was in the care of the Dursley's, so perhaps this medicine has actually helped to subdue the Horcrux..."

"Horcrux?"

"Yes. It's a bit difficult to explain, but to put it simple, the wizard that attacked Harry and his parents accidentally split his soul when he tried - and failed - to kill the boy. That piece of his soul attached itself to Harry and it seems that it has tried to hurt or even kill the boy ever since he was a very little child. I don't know whether it is aware of Harry being the reason for the state of half-life the Dark Lord – the wizard who attacked the Potters – currently is in, or whether it is only some kind of wild violence that causes it to harm the boy at every opportunity, but it doesn't matter. The problem is that this kind of magic – the splitting of ones soul by murdering another human being - is considered dark, more than dark. You won't find anything about it even in most books that deals with the dark arts. Therefore, it is very unlikely that the staff of St Mungo's or the ministry, should they learn about what exactly is wrong with Harry, will disagree with Albus Dumbledore – the man who plans to kill the boy. At best, they might decide to permanently lock Harry up behind some powerful wards, which will probably be even worse than death."

"So Harry is considered a serious threat to other people, I see..." Dr Green said thoughtfully. "And do you have any idea whether this... this Horcrux can be removed from the boy's head?"

"I don't know yet, this isn't something much research has been done about, as yo can imagine. However, I intend to find means to do exactly this – to force the Horcrux out of Harry's mind _without _killing the boy in the process. I don't expect it to be easy, but there are certain advantages about having once been a practitioner of the dark arts."

Dr Green eyed the Potion Master thoughtfully. "I care about the boy. I have known him for half his life, and it was rather distressing to see him getting worse and worse without being able to do much about it. Of course, the medication he got helped somehow, but only to a certain degree. But if you are right... well, it would certainly explain why nothing we tried really seemed to help the poor boy. So if you are serious about this, and if you really think that there is the chance of getting Harry out of the whole mess alive, I'm willing to help you."

Severus let out a breath that he hadn't noticed he was holding. He didn't know what he would have done if the doctor had refused to help him. Sure, he could always have imperiused the man, but somehow, resorting to an Unforgivable even before he had Harry removed from St Mungo's hadn't seemed a good start for what he was planning to do.  
"All right. I need to know exactly what kind of substances you dosed him with and what effects they had on the boy. Whether he reacted like every other person to them or if there were any abnormalities. I need to know what other means of treatment you have tried, and if there are things you haven't tried. Then – would you be willing to speak to Harry, once I have managed to get him out of our hospital? He seems to trust you – well, at least more than our medi-witch – and he simply _needs_ a healer – a doctor, I mean. I'm a potion master and I have a basic knowledge when it comes to healing, but I have never dealt with a child like Harry. I don't know what damage the Horcrux has caused, but I don't think having a specialist at hand would go amiss."

The two man talked for a while longer and agreed on staying in contact (Dr Green had found the idea of using owls as a means to communicate rather fascinating and had declined Severus' offer to resort to muggle-post instead), and that Dr Green would provide the Potion Master with Harry's file. Then, once the wizard had a rough overview over Harry's life and the problems the Horcrux had already caused (and how they had been solved), he would be able to ask the doctor more detailed questions, and hopefully, the two of them would be able to work out how to best take care of Harry, without putting anyone in danger or harming the boy irreversibly.

Dr Green had even offered to speak to his colleagues that worked on the ward Harry was currently staying at, hoping to get him out of there sooner, but Severus had, in cautious terms, explained about the contempt most wizards held muggles in and that it was unlikely that any healer would pay attention to what a doctor might say, no matter how well said doctor knew the child in question.

When the Potion Master departed, he felt quite relieved that, until now, everything had gone according to plan. He now had guardianship over the boy and another valuable ally. However, the trickiest part would be to get Harry out of St Mungo's, he supposed, especially since it had been Albus Dumbledore himself who had practically ordered the healers to take Harry with them. And once the healers on the Janus-Thickey ward had witnessed one of the boy's – or rather the Horcrux' – outbursts, they were bound to be quite reluctant to let the boy out of their clutches again.

Well, he would come up with a plan, Severus promised himself, and he would do so before Albus had made arrangements regarding his own plan.

* * *

Harry didn't know what day it was, he didn't even know what time it was, all he what he knew was that he felt worse than ever before. After his latest outburst, the people on the ward had shot spells at him that had made his his head feel as if it was filled with jelly and he could hardly think at all. Additionally, he was almost unable to move now, only with great difficulties he managed to turn his head.  
But while this feeling of being out of control of his body wasn't anything new to Harry, the medicine they had given him when he had stayed on the ward where Dr Green worked had at least affected the demon, too. Now, however, Harry felt as if the vile creature was trying to rip his mind apart. Every fibre of his being was screaming to get away from this thing, to run, run, run. But he couldn't. He couldn't do anything else than lying in this bed, drooling on his pillow and staring at the curtain next to him.

Sometime, one of these people in white clothes came to his bed and cast another spell at him. Harry tried to talk to them, tried to tell them that he felt awful, tried to show them that he couldn't bear it any more, that the demon was slowly killing him, that he couldn't fight the creature when he was as weak as he was now, but they didn't listen. Well, it wasn't as if he was able to speak coherently, all he could do was groaning and whimpering and whispering the odd word now and then, but they didn't even _tried _to understand him, they didn't seem to pay his efforts any attention at all.

Sometime later, several of these people came to his bed, and Harry half-hoped that something would happen, _anything _to make him feel better, but they just seemed to talk to one another (he saw their lips moving but he couldn't understand what they were saying, as his brain worked too slowly to process all the noise) and cast another few spells at him.

One of these spells was particular nasty. Something Harry couldn't see seemed to force its way down his throat and he thought that he would throw up if it didn't stop soon. After his stomach had settled once again, he tried to ask what they had done to him, but of course, he didn't receive any reply. He could only assume that it might be something similar to the tube he had gotten on Dr Green's ward when the demon had prevented him from eating . After all, the white people never offered him anything to eat (or to drink, for that matter), but nevertheless he didn't feel hungry or thirsty.

He lay in his bed for what seemed like forever, staring at the curtains next to his bed. There wasn't a window, or at least he couldn't make out one, so Harry couldn't even tell whether it was day or night, or how many time had passed since he had woken up again. He wasn't even sure whether he had been awake for the whole time or if he had dozed of again without noticing. It was rather frightening, having no sense of time at all, and as far as Harry was concerned, it could have been months since he had found himself in this bed.

His memories of what had happened before he had been brought to this ward were, at best, fragmentary. There had been a knife, yes, and something had happened to Ron, his friend. He couldn't recall what, though, and it worried him. Hopefully, the red-head was all right.  
It must have been the demon again, Harry thought, because he couldn't come up with any other explanation. He wasn't in pain, though, which was odd. Only the left side of his face felt strangely numb, and he couldn't open his left eye either. Well, perhaps they had just covered it up, but Harry couldn't summon the energy to lift his hand in order to touch it and to see what was wrong with it.

He couldn't turn around either, and so he was rather startled when suddenly, he heard voices behind his back. His brain seemed to work a little bit faster now than it had when the white people had almost made him puke, but still, he couldn't make out more than a few words. Most of them didn't make any sense to the boy, but when he heard Professor Snape's name, he perked up. Perhaps the Professor was here for him? Perhaps he would Harry get out of here?

"No, we can't … but Snape said..."

"... only a Potion Master... doesn't know... mind healer..."

"But what if ... pain …. medi-witch..."

"... deep scan …. need to be done . … brain-damage... "

"... right... but stun him... "

At some point, Harry lost track of the voices again. He only snapped back to attention when suddenly, he felt his body becoming stiff. What was going on?! Who were these people, what were they doing to him?!

Then, a searing pain shot through his head. What- ? Harry tried to scream, but his mouth didn't obey him, it didn't even twitch! What were these people doing, why did they hurt him like this? He tried to move, tried to give them a sign that whatever they were doing HURT, that he couldn't bear the pain, but nothing worked, he couldn't scream, he couldn't move, he couldn't even blink his eye...

It got worse and worse, it felt as if they had carved his skull open and were poking around in his brain with hot needles... it was worse than everything he had felt until now, worse even then the pain caused by the spell the medi-witch had cast on him - THEY NEEDED TO STOP!  
Harry didn't know how much longer he would last. Surely you couldn't survive pain like this. He would die, die of agony, and he only prayed that it would be quick, because everything, even death, was better than this, better than the pain, and still, he couldn't scream, couldn't move, he was completely helpless... and then it stopped.

Still dazed, Harry barely noticed that suddenly, he could move again (well, at least a little bit). Someone was screaming, sobbing - was there another person being tortured? But why... and then he became aware that the screaming and sobbing came out of his own mouth.

He couldn't stop it, though, as he was completely detached from his body, and the screaming just went on and on, it almost sounded like the little cat he had once seen back at Privet Drive, a small black-and-white kitten that had been run over by a car. It had screamed for five minutes or so, lying in the gutter, until it had died.  
Harry had sat next to it, he had never heard someone crying like this kitten, and he didn't want to leave it alone while being in such pain, he knew how awful it felt if you were all alone while being miserable. Then, the cat had become still. Harry had tried to wake it up, but it just kept lying there and didn't move. At some point, Aunt Petunia had taken him inside the house, where she had made him shower because of 'touching a filthy cat' (though Harry hadn't thought it to be filthy at all).  
The kitten had lain on the street for several days and with each day there were more flies and other insects that kept bothering it. Then, one day, the kitten had been gone. Apparently, it belonged to the mad old lady his Aunt didn't want Dudley to talk to or to take sweets from, since when Harry had passed her house, he had discovered a freshly dug mound of earth in her garden, and a wooden cross that had "Mrs Tibbles" written on it.

Harry, preoccupied with crying and breathing and remembering the poor kitten and wondering whether he would get a cross with his name on it, too, didn't notice that, once again, a pair of grey eyes was staring at him. He didn't even realized that suddenly, the curtain next to his bed was drawn back and a pale-looking woman with long, greyish-brown hair came into view.  
Only when the woman had stepped next to him (which had taken a while since somehow she could only make very tiny steps) and carefully put her hand on his head, Harry stopped crying and jerked upwards. Well, his body made a move as if it wanted to jerk upwards, but something – the same force that made it impossible for Harry to turn his head for more than a few inches – prevented it from doing so, and with a whimper of fear and distress, Harry gazed at the face of the woman that was looming several feet above his head.

After a few moments, he began to relax again. The woman – who looked oddly familiar, but at the same time Harry was sure that he had never seen her before – didn't seem to want to hurt him. She just petted his head and looked at him fondly. Harry knew that sort of look from the looks his Aunt had regarded Dudley with, oh how jealous Harry had been! Sure, sometimes the nurses on Dr Green's ward had smiled at him, too, but it wasn't the same. For one, the nurses weren't his mother (or related to him at all), and then they did it only after they had tied him up or forced him to take his medicine, and Harry had hated them for doing so.

But this woman, she was different. She hadn't done anything to him, and now that Harry looked at her more closely, he could clearly see that she wasn't a healer or a doctor or a nurse either. She wore a pale-lilac nightdress and a dressing-gown in the same shade, only darker. She didn't have a badge with her name on it and the empty, but clearly occupied bed on the other side of the curtain suggested that she was a patient on the ward, too.

"Uhm, hello..." Harry said uncertainly However, he didn't receive any reply, the woman just kept caressing his hair and looked at him, a mixture of compassion and something Harry couldn't quite place on her face.

After a few moments, Harry felt his body start shivering despite it not being cold at all. It got worse, and again a few tears were running down his cheeks. What was the matter with him? Was it still the after-effects of the pain those white people had inflicted on him?

The woman seemed to have noticed Harry's increased distressed because she came even closer to him and seated herself on the edge of Harry's bed. Harry, unable to exert much control over what his body was doing, rolled against her side. She didn't seem to mind, though, because she just continued smiling at him and petting his head.

After a while, Harry became calmer. The shivering and the tears had stopped and he felt rather drowsy.

It was only when he looked straight into the eyes of the woman and mouthed a quiet 'Thank you!' that it struck him. Neville! This woman looked like Neville!

And with this thought, Harry fell asleep.

* * *

**Next Chapter: Severus meets Audrey (the witch that knows a great deal about Horcruxes)**

_AN: I couldn't find any information about Alice Longbottom's eye-colour, but I though grey would be rather fitting. The scene on the closed ward in The Order of the Phoenix proved that she is at least somewhat aware of her surroundings, and I decided to build on this.  
Then, I know that Mrs Figg only has a cat named "Mr Tibbles" in canon, but since the kitten mentioned in this chapter, I thought it could very well have been a Mrs Tibbles. _

_Since many of you thought that the grey-eyed person might be one of the Malfoys I think I should tell you that I don't plan to include this family in the story, but if someone has some ideas about how they could contribute to the story, just leave I review, I'm always glad about suggestions! The overall plot is fixed, but there is always room for nice little details or sub-plots!  
On another note, I know that the staff of St Mungo's really isn't nice in this story, but I have done this purposefully, to contrast them with doctors/nurses from the muggle world.  
_

_As always, thanks for reading and to everyone who reviewed!_


	25. Audrey Shafiq

_I don't own Harry Potter_

* * *

**Chapter 25 - Audrey Shafiq  
**

'

During the next two weeks, Severus was rather busy. Between teaching, dealing with the first few cases of sever homesickness amongst the new Slytherin first-years and attending at least two meals in the Great Hall every day (lest Albus might become suspicious), the time he could spend on figuring out how to best proceed with caring for Harry was rather limited.

Two days after the Horcrux had hurt both Harry and Ronald Weasley, Severus had ordered the red-head (who had been released from Poppy's care after just one night in the infirmary, and who insisted on staying at Hogwarts despite his mother's attempts to make him come home again and start his schooling together with his younger sister in order to have enough time to recover from his almost-death) to meet him in his office.

Despite Ronald's earlier claims, he had been quite afraid of being alone in a room with the head of the snakes, and it had taken Severus several minutes to get a coherent answer out of the boy. It seemed that Ron had been sincere when telling his mother that it wasn't Harry's fault that he had been injured and he didn't hold a grudge against the other boy.  
Quite the opposite actually. When the Potion Master told the red-head where exactly Harry was and that Professor Dumbledore was responsible for Harry being sent away, he became rather worried at what might happen to his friend if the healers wouldn't understand that Harry hadn't meant to harm him. Severus' reassurance that children couldn't be sent to Azkaban seemed to help a little bit, but nevertheless Ron was worried enough to implore his Potion Professor to rescue Harry even though Harry being a lion and not a snake. After all, Ron pointed out, Harry trusted Professor Snape, so it would be unfair not to help him. And while the very Professor could only shake his head at the naivety of Gryffindors, he appreciated the fact that Harry would still have a friend when – if – he returned to Hogwarts.

He had sent Weasley back to his tower, but only ten minutes later, a panting Ronald had frantically knocked on his door, babbling something about know-it-alls, red eyes and having forgotten to tell Snape something. When he had caught his breath, Ron had added another piece to the puzzle that Severus was trying to solve. Apparently, a fellow Gryffindor first-year - Hermione Granger - had observed how Professor Quirell's eyes had shifted from their normal brown to a reddish colour directly after said Professor had touched Harry's shoulder, which had caused the boy to run from the classroom.

While such a thing was worrisome in itself, Severus might just have brought it to the headmaster's attention (as it was _his _duty to deal with everything concerning the staff), not really caring about Quirrell, if it hadn't been for Harry's attempt to smash his head against the castle-wall only minutes after he had left the classroom.

Of course, it was possible that it was purely coincidence and that the two things had nothing to do with each other, but somehow, Severus doubted that this was the case. He had never liked Quirrell, and the man's sudden appointment as the new DADA teacher had only added to Severus' disapproval, but he hadn't missed the alarming changes Quirrell had undergone during his year of absence. What had happened to the man? And had it something to do with Harry? Or the Dark Lord? Was it possible that he had somehow triggered the Horcrux, or did the man actually _know_ about Harry's condition? And what did this mean for the Stone that Albus had insisted on hiding in the school, despite almost every Professor's objections?

It had only been Ron's casual mentioning of Harry's eyes – both of them, even the unhurt on – becoming red, too, that had led to Severus connecting the dots, though.

He was rather certain that the change in Harry's eye-colour had been due to the Horcrux taking control over his body. What if something similar had happened to Quirrell? The Potion Master doubted that Quirrell was a Horcrux, after all, as far as he knew, the DADA-Professor had never had anything to do with the Dark Lord when the latter one had been still around, but then, Severus had only found out about Horcruxes a few days ago, so it was quite possible that there were other things concerning mind control, possession and similar dark magic he was oblivious of.

Well, he would need to keep an eye on the other Professor, and hopefully, he would find out more soon. He supposed he should consider himself lucky, after all, the headmaster had already ordered him to keep an eye on Quirrell before the term had even started – the position of the defence-professor seemed to attract troublesome teachers.

When Severus had thanked the Weasley-boy for sharing his (and Granger's) observation, the boy had gapped at him as if Severus had admitted his secret love for red and gold. Well, after he had witnessed his mother's outburst, he shouldn't be surprised, but still, being able to look into the throat of a Gryffindor had never been his greatest desire. After he had told the boy so, Ron had quickly shut his mouth, given him an uncertain grin and finally ran away.

###

To the Potion Master's great relief, the reaction of the students to Harry's stunt hadn't been as bad as he had anticipated. Well, the discussion McGonagall and Pomfrey had had in a corner of the Entrance Hall a day after everything had happened might have something to do with it. Two whispering teachers quickly had attracted the attention of the students, and even Severus (who, at first, had been rather annoyed at the two witches discussing Harry in a way that practically guaranteed that someone would overhear them) had been impressed by their acting skills.

The hushed conversation about backfiring pranks, troublesome Potter's and needlessly scaring unsuspecting students (and teachers) had ensured that most of the students were convinced that Harry's and Ron's apparent fight had only been a prank that had somehow gotten out of control.

Of course, there had been quite a few letters (and even some howlers) from angry and scared parents, and the board of governors had demanded an explanation of what exactly had happened, but since the headmaster had his own reasons for hushing the matter down, he had provided the governors with a carefully edited version of events. This had ensured that not even the 'Prophet' had learned about the incident (as no one of the governors wanted to discredit the finest magical school of the whole UK) and soon, the excited discussions of the students and rumours even more outlandish than the actual truth were the only indication that anything had happened at all.

* * *

This enabled Severus to concentrate on more important matters, like finding out more about the destruction of Horcruxes.

Audrey hadn't replied to his letter, which meant that she was willing to meet him at the time and date he had proposed. And so it was that late at Friday night, the Potion Master left the castle and apparated first to Diagon Alley (as it was recommended not to apparate more then 700 miles in one go) and then onwards to Poland, or more particular to the foot of a thickly wooded mountain, unplottable for muggles, where Audrey Shafiq had settled down during the first war.  
As far as Severus knew, only very few people were aware of the Shafiqs, an old pure-blood family from Britain, continuous existence. Amongst British pure-bloods, it was believed that the Shafiqs had died out during the 1930s. Severus had often heard Lucius and several of his companions mourning for all the knowledge that was irretrievably lost, since somehow the family seemed to have managed not to leave even a vault at Gringotts. In fact, if you didn't know better, you might get the impression that there had never been a Shafiq-family at all.

But Severus was one of the few who knew better. He didn't know what he would have done if Audrey Shafiq had refused to meet him, as there was no other family that had delved into mind magic (both light and dark) as deep as the Shafiqs. The family had been famous for their secrecy, though, and they had only passed on their knowledge within their family. He could only pray that the old witch was willing to help him (and Harry).

Taking a deep breath, Severus crossed the layer of shimmering air that were the only indication that this place was heavily warded. He involuntarily shivered when the magic washed over him and tried not to think about what would have happened to him if he hadn't been invited (well, sort of) by the owner of these grounds herself.

While Severus didn't believed in the pure-blood nonsense the Dark Lord and some of his followers spouted, he was rather certain that this particular pure-blood family was one of the most powerful magical families that had ever existed. However, in contrast to people like Dumbledore, the Shafiqs had always preferred working for their own gains, not caring whether the magic they worked with was regarded light or dark, not caring about other people's affairs. It had been this attitude that had offended both the Dark Lord and Dumbledore when the two wizards had tried to contact any descendant from the family that might still exist in order to persuade them to join their respective sites. Neither the leader of the dark nor the one of the light were used to people that didn't play according to their rules.

Severus thought he was really lucky that one of the potion masters that had taught him after he had left Hogwarts had been rather proficient in mind magic, too. Otherwise, he might never have become as good in Legilimency and Occlumency as he now was, and it was quite unlikely that he had ever made Audrey Shafiq's acquaintance.

After ten minutes of climbing up the mountain, Severus was sweating and panting but he had to walk for another five minutes or so until the dark stone wall that surrounded the old building came into view. When he reached the iron gate, he paused for a moment, trying to catch his breath. However, he barely had time to wonder about the massive, moving forms next to the building (which he could just make out in the mist) when a snarl penetrated the silence.

"Will you come in already!?"

Severus gulped. He hadn't noticed Audrey already standing on the other side of the gate. He reached for the gate, but before his fingers had touched it, it swung open.

"Are you mad, touching it?!" The witch hissed. Then she simply turned around and walked towards the dark, looming castle.

Severus mentally slapped himself for having been this careless. He knew better than to touch an obviously heavily enchanted gate! He quickly followed the old witch but just when he had reached her, he heard a heavy stomping from the side where he had seen the shadowy creatures. He turned around and stopped dead just when Audrey ordered: "Leave him alone, Tinkerbell!"

"You have named an elephant 'Tinkerbell'?" Severus asked, incredulously.

"She choose the name, Severus. And she isn't a simple elephant!" Audrey answered calmly, as if there was nothing unusual about having a herd of elephants in one's garden – even if the garden consisted of a whole mountain.

"But – if these beasts aren't elephants, what are they?" Severus demanded. "And why do you have a whole herd of them? Aren't they supposed to live in Africa?"

"They are mammoths. And I have them here because they can hardly live anywhere else. The muggles would lock them up in zoos and your wizards would hunt them down because of being dangerous. Now, do you come in? I don't believe you have come all the way only to gap at my pets." She smirked at him and entered the castle, leaving the door open.

Severus looked down his body and discovered that it had been a very bad idea to wear one of his best robes for this occasion. It was sweaty, twigs and leafs had got caught in it on his way up and the hem was muddy. He huffed in annoyance and followed the witch inside the house.

###

"Dumbledore is right. You can't destroy a Horcrux without complete and permanent destruction of its container." Audrey stated and Severus snapped back to attention.

After Audrey had led the Potion Master into what appeared to be a living room and a rather old, but exceptionally well-dressed house-elf had served tea , Severus had told the witch everything that had happened during the last two weeks, what he had discovered in Harry's mind and how Albus planned to 'solve' the problem. She had remained silent, only frowned now and then but motioned Severus to go on when he had stopped, waiting for her asking questions.

After he had finished his tale, the old witch had looked out of the window for several minutes and Severus had just started to feel uncomfortable when she spoke again.

Even the bat of the dungeons thought that the Shafiq's living room was rather creepy, with its apparently empty portraits that nevertheless made hushing noises, several bowls that were similar to Albus' pensive but were filled with all kind of weird substances, some of them even with a liquid that looked horribly like blood. There were globes made of crystal, a glass cabinet that held some odd looking things that Severus was rather certain had once been inside a person's – or any other being's – body, and a few silver instruments that looked like a mixture of the trinkets Albus' stored in his office and torture instruments he had seen in the dungeons of Malfoy Manor.

Startled by her sudden statement, Severus looked at the witch that sat across from him. He didn't even try to avoid her gaze as he had no hope whatsoever to defend himself against the most proficient Legilimens alive. He probably wouldn't even notice if Audrey probed his mind for more information.

However, the Shafiq's had held positions of power for many centuries, but then, about 60 years ago, something terrible had happened to the family. Nobody knew exactly what, and the rumours were that it had been this incident that had led to the extinction of the family. But even so the family did still exist, it must have been something quite disastrous as no Shafiq had ever again tried to gain power. The family – or what was left of it – seemed to be under some kind of oath not to use their power for any personal gains.

Therefore, Severus wasn't really worried about what the witch might see in his mind, and he just looked at her, confused. Surely he must have misunderstood her!

"Don't look at me like this!" The old woman snarled, "Horcruxes are one of the most powerful entities mind magic has ever come up with! There are only seven ways to destroy them, and _every single one _is going to destroy the container of the splinter, too. It's simply not possible to exterminate such a thing without doing fatal harm to its shell!"

"Seven ways?" Severus asked. He only knew about the killing curse, as Albus intended to cast it on Harry, he hadn't known that there were other means to destroy a Horcrux. Perhaps one of these means wasn't as deadly as the killing curse? He was a potion master, and Poppy and Minerva would help him, surely a transfiguration-professor, a medi-witch and he himself would find a way to prevent Harry from being killed when destroying the the Horcrux inside his mind! "How? How can such a thing be destroyed, apart from casting Avada Kedavra at the – the shell?" He demanded.

"Actually, casting the killing curse is the most crude an uncertain way to destroy this abominable being. It only works if the caster is powerful enough and, more importantly, if the container consists of organic material. On the boy, it would work, of course, but you can't just cast an Avada at just any object and expect the Horcrux to be gone!"

"Well, then, how else can a Horcrux be destroyed?"

"There are four magical creatures that have the ability to completely and utterly destroy a Horcrux. First, of course, there is the Basilisk. His venom will destroy any Horcrux instantly. Then, there is the sting of a Manticore. It's not as safe as Basilisk venom, as it cannot penetrate some hard metals like iron or stones like diamonds. Of course, it's a rather dangerous way anyway, as unlike the Basilisk's, the venom of the Manticore looses much of its efficiency once the beast is dead, and I cannot see any wizard being able to make a Manticore sting some object without getting eaten himself, too. And you know as well as I do that these creatures cannot be stunned.  
The other two creatures are related, I think, but I'm not an expert when it comes to magical creatures. The Dementor and the Lethifold are famous for having the ability to remove anything remotely similar to a human soul from any body or object there is. I won't recommend using it on the boy, though, being digested by a Lethifold is a rather gruesome death and nobody wants to care for a soulless body for years and years." The last words, Audrey said with a bitter edge in her voice. Severus was curious, but knew better than to ask.

"All right, four creatures and the killing curse. You have said there were seven ways of destroying a Horcrux, so what else?"

Audrey looked at him pensively. "Have you ever been in the department of mystery in the British ministry? Or in Delphi? Or in the cave at the foot of the Fujiyama in Japan? Or in Teotihuacan? It's in Mexico!" She added, having received a blank look from the young man facing her.

"What are you talking about? I have never been in the department of mysteries as you very well know, as if the fools working in the ministry would allow someone like me inside their shrine! And I have never been in Greece or Japan either, so what is this about?" Severus demanded, rather annoyed at the secretiveness of the old witch.

"In all of these places there is a – a barrier commonly referred to as a Veil. It's some kind of archway, made of stone, that allows the direct transition from the world of the living into whatever comes after death. Nobody knows where these Veils come from, who constructed them and why, they existed long before wizards started to investigate them. Even the first written accounts of the Veils that date back to about 1000 b. C. clearly state that they were ancient even then. The locations of the Veils became sacred places, and it is likely that there are many more, but most countries seem to prefer to keep them secret.  
Anyway, everything – or everyone – that passes through the Veil is gone, irretrievably. It's a one-way journey, nothing can return from death. Some people claim they can sense the beings on the other side of the Veil, and there have been several cases where someone who had lost his next of kin followed them through the Veil, unable to resist the enticing whispering.  
Of course, wizards in every age, all over the world have studied the mysteries of the Veils, but still they are regarded as one of the greatest mysteries of the wizarding world. Going through the Veil is, until now, the only known way of entering the world of the death with its body intact, as once a person has passed through the Veil, there are no mortal remains, no body left. I don't think anybody alive knows what happens with the bodies of those human beings that walk through the Veils. There are rumours that some of the greatest wizards in history have passed through the Veil willingly when they sensed that their time had come, not wanting to take a chance that someone would use parts of their body to achieve their own goals.  
Anyway, the archways have been used several times to dispose of Horcruxes. It is, maybe, the most gentle way of destroying these entities, especially if their container is a living being itself... I don't know why Dumbledore intends to cast a killing curse at the poor boy..." Audrey trailed off.

"Probably because the only Veil Albus know about is located in the department of mysteries in the British ministry, and while the fools wouldn't hesitate to grand him admittance wherever he wishes to go, he can hardly kill the Boy-Who-Lives directly under the nose of the government." Severus stated dryly.

"Maybe... but then, I don't know whether the ordinary wizards even knows about the possibility to destroy Horcruxes by forcing them through the Veil." Audrey answered.

Severus smirked inwardly at her reference to Albus Dumbledore as an 'ordinary wizard'. There weren't many people that didn't worshipped the leader of the light – or were terrified of him, that was. Nicolas Flamel maybe... "All right, this was the sixth way. So what is left?" Severus asked.

"Fiendfyre. But I wouldn't recommend using it, its incredibly difficult to control, at least if you want to stop it fast enough to prevent it incinerating yourself, too. And then, I doubt it's a pleasant death, being cremated... but of course, it's probably the most foolproof means there is, after Basilisk venom, of course."

When Audrey saw the Potion Master out, the latter had several books in his (temporary) possession that probably were worth more than Hogwarts castle. Severus had been reluctant to take them, but when Audrey had just shrugged and told him that if he didn't want them she might just sell them to the lovely muggle books-shop in the nearby town that had specialized on selling second-hand books that dealt with supernatural and esoteric matters, as she had no use for them, he had given in. Even so he wasn't exactly keen on reading about the making of a Horcrux (he had almost been sick when just scanning through one of the books), he had to admit that they might hold valuably information when it came to doing the opposite.

Severus was rather glad when they reached the door that led out of the creepy castle, and he was just about to tell the old Lady that she should stay inside as he was very well able to find the gate on his own when one of the elephants – eh, mammoth – came stomping around the corner. Well, perhaps having the owner of these creatures accompanying him wasn't such a bad idea after all, as Severus was sure that it would take the mammoth very little effort to run him through with their tusks.

"Well, thanks for your help, then." Severus said awkwardly when they had reached the gate.

Audrey looked at him silently for a few moments. She had already started to turn around when she spoke again."If you really want to save the boy, why don't you make sure he can't be killed before killing him?" And with that cryptic comment, she left, Tinkerbell trudging next to her.

* * *

When Severus was back in his quarters it was already half past four in the morning and he decided to quit sleeping altogether. When the house-elves had provided him with a pot of strong, black coffee, he sat down and penned a letter to Dr Green, telling the man what he had found out so far and asking him whether the other man had come up with anything useful during the week.  
Briefly, he thought about asking the doctor whether he could provide him with samples of the different drugs Harry had taken over the years, as he planned to investigate them more thoroughly in order to find out what was the safest one to give Harry once he had managed to get the boy out of St Mungo's. But then he dismissed the idea, he didn't think it would be wise to send substances that were, when discovered, quite certainly considered illegal with owl-post. Instead, he proposed another meeting for Monday evening.

Severus had decided to visit Harry on Sunday, as it was likely that there wouldn't be much staff around in the hospital on the weekends. Therefore, he might be able to get the boy to talk to him honestly without being overheard, and if he was lucky he would even manage to sneak into the storage room where St Mungo's kept the files of all their patients. He could only hope that the healers hadn't resorted to some of the more... violent means in order to keep Harry calm.

Additionally, visiting Harry would reassure the boy that the Potion Master hadn't abandoned him and that he wouldn't have to stay in the hospital indefinitely. Oh, and he could have a proper look at the security measures St Mungo's had taken to prevent the inmates from fleeing from their prison. Or to stop visitors – be it relatives or someone with darker motives – from abducting them, as he was rather certain that most of the patients that were treated on the Janus-Thickey Ward were too incapacitated to actually find out of the hospital on themselves.

Just when he added the final paragraph to his letter, there was a knock on the door of his quarters.

Severus looked up. Who (who didn't have access to the floo) dared to interrupt the Potion Master's night sleep?! If one of the younger snakes had had a nightmare, the prefects would deal with it, and if anybody from his house had become sick, Poppy would take care of them. If it was something serious, she would floo the head of house, but not sending some first-year (as the knock had been rather soft) to his quarters at not even five o'clock in the morning!

Gripping his wand tightly, Severus went to the door and threw it open, his wand pointing at the potential enemy. When all what he saw was the empty corridor, he blinked in confusion. What in Merlins...?

He had been about to cast a 'homenum revelio' when a screech alerted him to the presence of an owl, sitting on the floor and looking at him reproachfully. The Potion Master couldn't recall having ever seen an owl (well, at least a living one that was still in one piece) in the dungeons.

"What?" He demanded, "If you have a letter to deliver have at least the decency to come up, I won't crawl around on the floor!" And invitingly he offered the annoying owl his arm. The bird seemed to get the message and fluttered onto the makeshift perch. It didn't seem to have a letter bound to its claws, which left him wonder what it could possibly want.

It was only when he had taken it inside his brightly lid kitchen when he recognized the ruddy beast. This was Potter's owl! But why-

"Hedwig, right?" He asked the bird, feeling rather stupid. Severus had never understood why wizards talked to their pets. It wasn't as if the creatures would understand anything a human being would say!

However, he was taken by surprise when the owl seemed to incline its head in confirmation. Of course it would be Potter who managed to get an owl that was smarter than the average first-year student!

"Well, what do you want? Your master isn't here – not yet." The bird kept staring at him with unblinking eyes. "All right, all right, I promise I'll hurry up getting your master back!" He finally offered. Why was it that the owl's look made him feel even more guilty about having allowed Harry to get hurt and to be taken away from hi- from Hogwarts?

"Do you want to deliver a letter? I need an owl anyway and since you have already made all the way down from the owlery I don't see why I should walk all the way up! Don't look at me like this, it concerns your master, the letter!" He added, when the bird gave him a contemptuous look. The last comment seemed to be the magic word, though, as Hedwig willingly stretched out her leg, allowing the Potion Master to attach the letter to Dr Green to it.

"To Dr Green. The doctor of your master, in Surrey, all right?" Once again, he was surprised when the owl only ruffled up its feathers as if offended and gave him a look that clearly stated 'You think I'm stupid or what?'

Huffing, Severus made his way for the door. Hopefully, the house-elves had already set up breakfast, he could see Potter's feathered friend of from the Entrance Door.

* * *

The only indication that it was weekend was the fewer amount of white people that kept crossing the ward. Harry had managed to stay awake for more than a few minutes during the past few days, but he still didn't have a real sense of time. There wasn't a clock on the ward, or at least not in the part of it he could see, and he hadn't been allowed to get up either.

He wasn't tied up, though, and at first he had thought that he might be able to actually leave his bed. But when he had tried to do so, despite it being really difficult and exhausting to move at all, he had soon learned that wizards didn't need to use chains or shackles to keep him in bed. The closer he had come to the edge of his bed, the more difficult it had become to move, and when Harry finally managed to stick his left foot out of the bed, an alarm had gone off.

The white nurse that had come running had been quite annoyed at his attempted escape, and as a result, she had placed even stronger spells on his bed.

Additionally, they gave him a new kind of medicine (they called it potion, but the effects were even worse then the ones from all the medicines Dr Green had given him) that significantly affected his ability to move, too, and made him unable to speak coherently.

As a result, he hadn't managed to ask one of the white people what day it was or when he would be discharged or whether he could speak to Professor Snape or Dr Green, the only two adults he could think of that would perhaps help him getting out of here. He would rather stay on the ward of Dr Green, at least the people there were mostly nice and allowed him to move around if he promised not to do anything dangerous.

The white people on this ward (Harry hadn't figured out which one were nurses and which doctors or healers, everyone looked the same and nobody had bothered to introduce him- or herself) just cast spells on him several times each day - never even bothering to tell him which one they would use next - and otherwise pretty much ignored him.

Harry had soon figured out that there were four kind of spells that were cast on him regularly.

One was for keeping his body clean, this was all right with him, as he had always hated it when the nurses on Dr Green's ward had washed him when he had been tied up.

Then there was one that made some sort of food go down into his stomach. They placed a bottle similar to those that were used for transfusions in normal hospitals above his head, and the spell would make the liquid from the bottle going down his throat in a long, thin jet of liquid. It made him chocking and coughing almost like the tube he had gotten from Dr Green, though Harry didn't understand why they wouldn't just give him real food, it would be so much nicer and easier! But when he had tried to ask, the words hadn't come out clearly enough and the white woman that had fed him that time had only clucked disapproval.

The next spell Harry didn't really want to think about, and he would have preferred getting the bed-pan (a device he had hated with passion during his earlier stays in hospital!) instead of a hex that made his bladder and bowls empty themselves into some sort of magical cover that then floated into a small box next to his bed where it disappeared.

It was the last one, however, that was the worst. Though the white people didn't use it as often as they used the other ones, Harry always felt his heartbeat going up and his breath quickening when one of them approached him with their wand drawn, fearing that he would have to go through the unimaginable agony again. Each time they had made his head feel like it had been split in two and then set to fire, Harry lay in his bed for hours afterwards, sweating and shivering and crying and just wishing the demon would kill him already, as surely this couldn't be more painful than that spell, and at least it would all be over then!

The only thing that kept him going was the comforting presence of Neville's mum.

Well, of course he didn't knew exactly whether the silent woman that sat next to him for hours and hours, caressing his hair and petting his shoulder and sometimes even carefully hug him indeed _was _Neville Longbottom's mother, but in his head (and it wasn't as if he could say it out loud anyway), Harry had started to call her Neville's mum. The resemblance between the woman and his (former) class-mate simply was too obvious to be a mere coincidence, Harry thought, and although Neville had never mentioned anything about his mother being in hospital, Harry recalled the boy telling him and the other boys something about living with his grandmother.  
But then... did this mean people stayed here for years? Or even _forever_? Neville had clearly said he "lived" with his grandmother, which suggested that it was something permanent rather than a temporary thing while his mother was away.

Unconsciously, Harry let out a whimper of distress. He couldn't stay here forever, he couldn't! There must be something he could do to prove the white people that he could behave, that he didn't need to be locked up all the time! If only someone would listening to him, if only they would let him call Dr Green or Professor Snape...

It was only when a soft hand carefully wiped away his tears that he noticed that he had started to cry again. Neville's mum – who, unlike Harry was able to move around freely - sat next to him and regarded him with a look full of compassion.

"I want to go out of here..." Harry mumbled. It didn't matter that the woman wouldn't be able to understand him, as she had never said a word anyway – perhaps she was mute? But just talking to someone made Harry feel a little bit better, a little bit less alone, and so he continued telling Neville's mum about the hospital Dr Green worked at and how he wished that the man would come rescuing him. And then he told her about Professor Snape and that he had been the first one ever that had been able to see the demon and that he still hoped that the man would come for him – though the more time passed by, the more convinced Harry became that nobody would come for him any more, that he was on his own.

###

It happened when Harry had just gotten another 'meal'. He lay as still as possible in order not to aggravate the queasiness he felt each time after that food-stuff had ran into his stomach when suddenly, there came a tall, black figure into his line of sight, rapidly approaching his bed.

"Good afternoon, Mr Potter!" The Potion Master drawled. It had been surprisingly easy to get access to the closed ward and to Harry Potter no less, Severus thought, they hadn't even wanted to know who he was (not to mention ensuring that he really was the one he claimed to be and not some polyjuiced criminal) but just warned him that the boy was heavily sedated and under a spell that rendered him unable to move freely. They had stressed that it was merely a precaution, but when Severus got the first look on Harry, he had to employ all his will-power not to let his shock show (or to scream at the healers responsible for the boy's condition).

Harry looked terrible. He was pale with dark circles under his eyes and his left eye was covered with a magical plaster. There was a magical drip next to his bed and Severus cursed silently when he saw that it was one of the substances he had specifically told the emergency-healer _not _to give Harry that was running into his system.

The boy was sweaty and it was clear that nobody had bothered to actually wash him since his admittance. Cleaning charms just weren't the same as a real bath, but of course, the staff had barely time to meet their patient's basic needs, let alone actually washing or feeding them.  
And it wasn't as if anyone in the wizarding world really cared about those patients that had had the misfortune to end up on the Janus-Thickey-Ward. The inhabitants of the ward were (mostly) damaged beyond repair and the public considered them little more important than muggles. So why bothering? They didn't even got private room, for Merlin's sake! Not even the Longbottoms (who, as Severus had noticed when he had first entered the ward, occupied the two beds next to Harry's), who had been here since almost ten years and who were war-heros were granted this privilege!

The Potion Master tried to shake off all thoughts about the injustice and inhumanity of the world he lived in. He had to focus on the boy!

Apart from his dishevelled outward appearance, Harry looked at if he had swallowed an overdose of calming draught. His pupils were dilated and a slight tremble passed through his body every now and then. When he tried to sit up, obviously trying to get a closer look at the looming Professor, Severus noticed that his movements were extremely slow and sluggish and his whole body seemed to be rather stiff.

Suddenly, Harry's lips began to move, but all the Potion Master was able to make out was a faint, incoherent mumbling.

"Harry..." Severus whispered, conjuring a chair out of nowhere and sat down next to Harry's bed. He gripped the boy's hand and gave it a light squeeze. After a few seconds, the small hand began to shake before giving him a brief squeeze in return. When he looked up, he saw a single tear running down Harry's face.

* * *

**Next Chapter: More about Snape visiting Harry, rescue-plans and Dr Green again**

_The Shafiq-family is one of the pureblood-family created by JKR herself, but it is believed that they have died out during the 1930s. I decided to change this and to use it for my purpose. Anyone wondering about the mammoth' name, I just came up with it and even so the name doesn't fit in the Potter-universe at all, the mammoth refused to be named differently. Obviously, I have made up three of the means to destroy Horcruxes, but I figured an expert should now more about this subject than Dumbledore.  
Oh, and I have included a (very small) hint at how Harry's Horcrux will be destroyed in this chapter... _

_Because some of you have mentioned it, the spells that are meant to scan Harry's mind/brain for anything unusual cause him pain because of its distorted condition (due to the Horcrux). The other spell cast by the healers at St Mungo's is some kind of cleansing spell, as the healers just can see that "there is something wrong with Harry's mind" and don't really now what else to do. Obviously, the Horcrux is less than pleased about this and the dragging and tugging on Harry's mind is the reason for the pain he feels.  
The exact nature of the spells is not of real importance, though, it just illustrates how careless and thoughtless the healers are. _


	26. Rescue Preparations

_I don't own Harry Potter_

_There were some interesting guesses about how the Horcrux could be destroyed without killing Harry, though for obvious reasons I won't tell you whether anyone has gotten it right!  
With the last chapter, the story has broken the 500 reviews mark and I really want to thank every single one of you that has reviewed! I hadn't expected to actually get so many reviews, followers and favourites with this story (though of course I had hoped that many of you would like the story, witch writer doesn't?) and I'm really touched!_

* * *

**Chapter 26**

#

Harry stared at the man in wonder. He had come for him! The Professor had really come for him!

"P-P-Pro-of-essor-r," Harry whispered, but all that came out of his mouth was a faint mumbling and he felt frustrated.

"Harry, what have they done to you?" The Potion Master whispered, clearly shocked about the state the boy was in.

Harry tried to tell the man that he didn't know, but quickly gave up. Instead, he just shrugged his shoulders – well, at least he made an attempt to do so, but as he had hardly more control over his body than he had over his voice, he only managed to lift them up an inch or so.

The Professor, however, seemed to get the message, because after a few seconds in which he just looked at Harry strangely, he began to talk.

When it became clear to Severus that Harry wouldn't be able to answer any questions, he decided that the best course of action would be to tell the boy what had happened since the day he had been committed to St Mungo's (an edited version, of course, it wouldn't do to frighten him by telling him what Albus had planned for him) as he doubted that anyone from the staff had taken the time to do so. And of course, he needed to reassure the boy that he would be out of here soon. Harry was bound to have noticed the Longbottom's, and while he didn't know whether their son had told his room-mates anything about his family, the extraordinary resemblance between Alice and Neville practically assured that Harry had made the connection. And _if _the Longbottom-boy had told him about the fate of his parents... no, he wouldn't allow Harry to worry whether he would stay on this ward permanently, too!

Severus looked straight into Harry's eyes, determined not to miss the slightest reaction the boy might have to what he was about to tell. "Harry, I know you can't speak or move, but I just want you to listen to me. If you have a question, try to blink with your eyes and I will try to guess what it is that you want to know. However, you'll be able to ask any question you wish as soon as you are out of here – and rest assured, it won't be long! - so we will only deal with the really important issues right now. All right?"

Harry looked back at him eagerly, and Severus assumed that this was a good sign. At least Harry seemed to be able to comprehend what was going on.

"You are at St Mungo's, the wizarding hospital. It's in London, and you are on the closed ward. Most other people here have suffered some sort of permanent spell-damage. You have been here for almost a week -"  
(at this, Harry's eyes widened ever so slightly. Severus could only assume that the boy didn't have any clue about whether he had been here mere hours or month' and again, he cursed the staff of St Mungo's. Didn't they know what it could do to a human mind if people had no sense of time?! It might very well drive them mad – but then, perhaps it wasn't so surprising, considering Harry's current whereabouts...)

"yes, it's Sunday now. You have been here since last Monday, after the hor- the demon attacked you during lunch in the Great Hall. The headmaster decided it would be in your best interest to be taken to St Mungo's for treatment, but I have already made arrangements to get you out of here. It might take a few more days, but I promise that you'll be out of here in less than a week. I have spoken to your Aunt, and she has agreed that I take you in for the time being, as your relatives are muggles and therefore unable to deal with your problems appropriately. Of course, you can see them whenever you wish and if – when you have recovered, you can decided for yourself whether you want to live with the Dursley's or – or not. Also, I have spoken to Dr Green -" (here, Harry's face lit up) "and he will help me getting you out of here and will assist in getting you better again. I have started to research possible treatments for your... for your condition, and I will do everything possible to get the demon out of your head and to get you healthy again, all right?"

Severus was well aware that he had omitted a great deal of information, but there was no use in Harry worrying over what he – well, the Horcrux – had done to Ron Weasley or about the headmaster or that he, Severus Snape, would not only care for him now but be his official guardian. No, all of this could wait until he had the boy out of here and he could speak again.

Concentrating on Harry again, the Potion Master saw the boy making an effort to nod and he lay his hand on Harry's forehead in order to stop him from overtaxing himself. "All right, now-" But before he could say anything else, one of the nurses approached Harry's bed.

"Mr Snape, I'm sorry, but you need to leave now. Mr Potter isn't very well yet and we need to administer treatment again that will hopefully help the young man in the long run."

"Oh, right..." Severus answered. He turned back to Harry to tell him that he would come back in a few day's time. However, the words became stuck in his throat when he saw the look of horror on the boy's face. He followed his gaze and saw three other people – a healer and two nurses as far as Severus could tell – approaching Harry's bed, their wands drawn.

"Harry, I promise I get you out of here very very soon, just try to relax, it will all be over soon and you'll be safe!" He whispered,carefully squeezing the boy's hand again and was glad when Harry's eyes snapped back to him. However, the look of utter defeat in his eyes worried him. What were these people doing to Harry?

"Mr Snape, if you would...?"

"Yes, all right – goodbye, Harry! Don't worry, I'll be back soon!" And with a last glance at the clearly terrified boy, Severus turned towards the door that led back to the corridor. Just when he had reached it, he heard something that was obviously an attempt to scream and and admonition to calm down and be quiet directly afterwards. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Alice Longbottom getting up, turning towards Harry's bed.

Then, however, the door opened for him and he stepped out into the dark corridor. The door fell shut a second later and he couldn't here anything from inside the ward any longer. Apparently, St Mungo's had magically soundproofed this ward.

###

Severus leaned on the wall next to the door, closing his eyes. This was... horrible. Whatever they 'treated' Harry with, he doubted it would do any good, and hearing the boy's sounds of distress had once again left him feeling guilty. All he wanted to do was getting Harry out of there, away from a place and people that clearly frightened the child. He was his guardian for crying out loud!

As usually, though, Severus managed to suppress his emotions and reason took over. If he would just demand St Mungo's handing over the boy or even abducting him from the hospital, it was quite possible that the healers would contact the ministry. And while this might ensure that Albus couldn't kill the boy (at least for the time being), anything the ministry might do to Harry would hardly be any better – especially if they learnt about the Boy-Who-Lives having attacked his classmates. Not to mention that after such a stunt, Severus would never keep custody of Harry. And of course, the healers were likely to inform the headmaster about the matter if he took Harry without making sure that everything was in order and legally valid.

Which meant he would need to wait at least until tomorrow, because there was no way the changed guardianship of Harry Potter had been registered in the ministry's records during the weekend. And even then he needed to secure McGonagall's support in order to override Albus Dumbledore's demand for the boy staying on the closed ward. But once he had Minerva's support... there wasn't really anything Albus could do against Harry's head of house (and his own deputy) and the boy's legal guardian taking him out of the questionable care of St Mungo's.

It wouldn't hurt to get some official documents from Dr Green either. While he was a muggle, he was also a professional doctor, and if the matter became public or if someone called for a trial in order to decide where Harry should stay, there was no way the ministry (or Albus) simply could dismiss the doctor's concerns, not without causing a serious uproar amongst the pro-muggle faction of the wizarding world.

The Potion Master was pulled out of his musings when a nurse passed the corridor where he was still leaning against the wall, and after receiving a curious glance, he made his way to the stairwell.

Now it came in handy that, in his time as a Death Eater, he had been commanded to alter (or even remove) medical files both from fellow followers of the Dark Lord and from some of their victims several times. Ignoring the "staff only!" sign, Severus slipped down in the cellar of St Mungo's where he knew all files from everyone who had ever been treated in this hospital were stored. Magic certainly simplified bureaucracy, as the healers and nurses on the wards had only to jot down notes about their patients condition and treatment in some temporary records that would automatically be copied in the central files of the respective patient. Another advantage was that the files would see to everything being neat and tidy and not the illegible scrawl the ordinary wizard (and healers especially) produced with the quill.

Dismantling the wards took Severus less then 5 minutes, which he was rather proud of. It seemed he hadn't forgotten the more useful skills that had come with being a Death Eater (and a spy to boot)! A simple "Accio!" prevented him from having to spend the rest of his life searching for the right file, and a shrinking charm later, the Potion Master had Harry's file safely stored inside his pocket. After he had set up the wards again and cast a few spells that ensured that nobody except the most highly skilled (and paranoid) Aurors would be able to tell that _someone _had entered the room without permission, he slipped back to the stairwell and when he had reached the ground floor once again, the adrenalin in his system started to fade.

After all, this was about Harry and not about some anonymous (or at least unimportant) victim of the Dark Lord. He hadn't really cared that much about getting caught 'enhancing' their files. But being caught stealing the records of Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, current inmate of the closed ward and 'possessed' by a piece of the Dark Lord himself... no, Severus didn't want to think about what could have happened if this had gone wrong.

Oh, he didn't care about having to pay a fine or being banned from the hospital permanently or something equally ridiculous, but if he had been caught his only chance of getting the boy out of here (without the two of them having to go underground for the rest of their life) and therefore out of Albus' reach had been to obliviate half of the staff of both the ministry and St Mungo's. No, this way, it was much easier.

* * *

"... and of course they have used _exactly _the spell Pomfrey – our medi-witch – used to examine his mind, _despite _me telling this fool of an emergency-healer not to do it! Not to mention the potions they have given him, several of them might interact with the substances you have prescribed him, why can't you healer-lot not just _listening _to other people's advice?!" Severus ranted on and on.

It was Monday evening and five minutes ago, he had apparated into Dr Green's office, having received a message from the man during breakfast that it would be safe to do so. Hedwig (who had brought the message) had been rather proud at having managed all the way to Surrey and back to Scotland in less than 24 hours and Severus had been grateful that he would be able to yell at one of those stupid healers the very same day. Sure, it might be unfair to vent his fury on Dr Green, who neither was really a healer nor in any way responsible for Harry's current situation, but as it would be... unwise to confront the healers at St Mungo's just now, Severus choose to ignore such little details.

When he had scanned through Harry's file the previous evening, it had taken him all his will-power not to go finding the healers immediately and hex them into oblivion. These fools! Not only had they used practically every potion and spell he had warned the healer not to try, but they also seemed to have the intention to drive Harry mad! As far as Severus could tell, all the spells and potions they used to keep the boy calm led to him being completely at the mercy of the Horcrux, unable to fight, entirely helpless. Of course, in such a state, the vile being couldn't do much harm to Harry's body, but the Potion Master almost didn't dare to think about the possible effects this could have on his sanity – if the Horcrux couldn't harm Harry physically, what would it do to his mind?

"Well, I can't say much about all those potions and spells, but it doesn't seem to be right to treat an eleven-year-old boy on the same ward as adults with severe and permanent brain-damage. Not to mention that forcing Harry to stay in a bed the _entire _time will hardly do him any good. Doesn't your people's medical profession realize that there is more in treating someone with a psychosis – well, yes, or a similar issue – than preventing him from hurting himself?" Dr Green, who had studied Harry's file from St Mungo's, replied.

"I don't think they have any idea of what exactly is wrong with Harry – not that this is such a bad thing, it would be much harder to get him out of there if they did," Severus hastily added, "But the headmaster surely hasn't told the staff about his plans for the boy, and it isn't as if Horcruxes are well-known by the majority of the population, even the ones with medical training..."

Dr Green eyed the Potion Master thoughtfully. Well, Severus couldn't blame him for being somewhat... reserved when it came to wizards, not with everything the man had learned about their world until now. First Harry's parents being killed by a lunatic, then not making sure the boy hadn't sustained any injuries during the attack, finally placing him in an environment that was – at best – neglectful and made it impossible for him to get the help he desperately needed.  
Of course, the Dursley's weren't entirely blameless either, but then, if Petunia had told him the truth, they had at least tried to contact anyone from the wizarding world as soon as it had become apparent that Harry was somehow... odd, even by wizarding standards.

"Well, then what are you planning to do now?" The Doctor asked the Professor.

"Getting Harry out of there." Severus replied without hesitation.

"And then?"

The Potion Master considered the question. "I don't really know," He finally admitted, "I will try to find a means to get rid of the the Horcrux. In the meantime... well, if it is reasonably safe to do so, it might be best if Harry resumes taking the medicine you have given him during the last few years. After all, you managed to keep him alive and even out of hospital for most of the time..."

"Part of the time," Dr Green corrected, "Harry got worse with the years... I don't know how long it would have been safe to let him stay with his family. It's quite possible that he had ended up in a closed institution permanently, I don't know... but anyway, from what you have told me about those Horcruxes, there is no way to destroy it without killing Harry, too. Or have I missed something?"

"Horcruxes aren't meant to reside in a living being – much less a human! Nobody can tell whether killing the person the Horcrux has taken possession of really is the only way to destroy this abomination. I have spoken to a witch that is quite... knowledgeable about those things..." Severus trailed of.

"And?" Dr Green prompted after a few seconds of silence.

"There might be a way... she wasn't very clear, and all the methods she mentioned are fatally, but her last remark... well, I have to think about it, and perhaps the witch might even deign to reveal more information, but I don't think she would have said something like this if she hadn't thought about something specific..." Again, The Potion Master fell silent. He had spent the better part of the weekend thinking about Audrey's remark about making sure that Harry couldn't be killed before exposing him to something that would, under normal circumstances, be fatal for the child.

"Well, then, when do you plan taking Harry out of there? And where will he go?" Dr Green asked, obviously sensing that the Potion Master wouldn't reveal much more about possible... well, 'cures' until he had found out more about those...creatures.

"I think the best course of action would be to keep him in my quarters at Hogwarts. There is hardly a place more heavily warded then the dungeons of the castle. If Dumbledore tries to interfere... well, there is always the house I grew up in, and of course, several residences from the Prince-family – my mother's family," he added.

"But if Harry stays at that school, wouldn't the headmaster get hold of him?"

"Not if I don't allow him to enter my chambers, no." Severus had already thought about whether it would be safe to stay at Hogwarts once he had the boy. But when he had asked the portraits in the dungeons, the house elf that was assigned to take care of the quarters of the head of Slytherin and Minerva, their answers had been unanimous: If a Head of House choose to ban the headmaster from his personal quarters (and set up a few extra wards) there was nothing Albus could do about it.  
The Founders – who had been the first heads of houses, after all – had seen to this. All four of them had been equally powerful wizards – despite what everyone said about Hufflepuff – but of course there had been a rather firth competition (not only between Gryffindor and Slytherin). So it was only natural that they had warded their quarters and even made sure that future generations of heads of houses would be safe.

It even seemed that this was common knowledge amongst the majority of the staff, but somehow, the old coot must have 'forgotten' to mention it when appointing Severus head of Slytherin.

"All right then, but if I remember correctly, you are a teacher. I don't think it would be wise to leave Harry on his own device, completely without supervision for prolonged periods of time – if at all!"

"The boy's head of house – Minerva McGongall – has already agreed to support me. She was the one who asked me to look after Harry in the first place, mind you. Well, and then there is Poppy Pomfrey, our medi-witch, I'm sure she'll be ready to help, too."

"That are three people, you included, and all of you seems to have other duties as well. I can't really imagine this being enough, especially if Harry fares even worse than he did in the previous years..." Dr Green said doubtfully.

"Hmmm..." Severus considered the doctor's word. "Well, if it's really bad, I can always quit teaching... at least for a while..."

"That might be sensible." Dr Green replied seriously, "Of course, as long as you can make sure that Harry – or the Horcrux – doesn't start hexing the nurses or the other patients, he could always come here... we have dealt with him before, after all."

Severus inclined his head. "I appreciate the offer. We have to see whether it will be safe to do so, though, I don't know what state Harry will be in upon his discharge. And then we have to consider Dumbledore, of course. I doubt he would have any inhibitions taking Harry and obliviating all of you when he thinks it's for some greater good." He sneered at the last words. "But," and Severus turned serious again, "I have rather hoped that you would be able to come to Hogwarts – or my home, where ever we'll stay – once in a while. Harry knows you and you have experiences when it comes to dealing with him. Additionally, you are the only one who knows how to handle these medications."

"Of course, well, if I'm able to enter a wizarding castle, that is. Your wizards seem rather reclusive," the Doctor smirked in a way that would have made the Potion Master proud.

"That won't be a problem, there are spells that ensure that squibs and muggles can enter the castle without difficulties".

Severus considered his next question carefully, he didn't want the doctor to think that he just wanted to find an easy way to sedate Harry. "Mh, since you have managed to keep Harry rather healthy throughout the years... are there any other means of treatment I should know about? I mean, I don't know much about muggle medicine in general, and many things your people do to help the sick or injured won't help a wizard, they might be even be dangerous, but perhaps there is something useful..." He trailed off.

"Well, apart from trying different drugs and restraining him when it got really bad there wasn't much we could do about it. We still know too little about psychoses to treat it properly, it's only by trial and error that we can decided which substance works on a particular person. And of course, there are people who suffer from psychosis that don't respond to any treatment at all. I rather feared that Harry might belong to this group, as he just wouldn't get better, but since he doesn't seem to be psychotic at all..."

"There is nothing else you can do about it other than describing drugs and preventing the person from injuring himself or others by tying him down?"

"Well, there have been attempts to stimulate the brain of people who suffer from severe psychoses by conducting electric current through their brain-"

"What?" Severus asked incredulously. Oh, unlike some purebloods he knew about electricity and what muggles had achieved by utilizing it, but energizing a person's _brain_?

"It isn't done any longer," Dr Green hurried to explain, "although there are scientists who claim that as long as it is done while the patient is under anaesthetic it might actually have a positive effect..."

"This... this treatment isn't, by any chance, known as electric shock treatment, is it?" The Potion Master asked thoughtfully.

"Yes, that's exactly what it is called like," Dr Green answered, surprised that the other man knew the correct term (as until now, he had got the impression that wizards were rather oblivious when it came to the modern world and recent achievements).

"I have read about it in one of those books from the library," Severus explained, having seen the doctors surprise, "it sounds rather cruel, though."

"Yes, well, it's not done any longer so the point is moot anyway. In many cases it seemed to have been used as a punishment, a threat to make the patient behave themselves. But then, there are a few cases in which the people really seemed to have benefited from the treatment and were able to lead a normal life..."

The two men discussed the pros and cons of electro-convulsive therapy for a while longer and in the end, Dr Green borrowed the Potion Master a book about the subject. He wasn't an expert when it came to this sort of treatment since even when ECT had still been more common it was hardly ever used on children.  
However, he only did so after making the Potion Master promise that he wouldn't try anything without the doctor's knowledge and consent. Snape might appear to have Harry's best interest at heart, but after what he learned about wizards Dr Green wasn't prepared to take any chances

Severus was deeply offended by the warning the Doctor gave him about not trying to conduct electricity through a human being – Harry no less! But well, as long as the muggle did so out of concern for Harry he shouldn't really mind. It meant that he was less likely to agree with Dumbledore should the two men ever meet, didn't it?

When Severus had appeased the doctor he prepared to take his leave."Well, if you don't mind, it's getting rather late and I need to return to Scotland soon – I need as much of this medicine as you can spare. Preferably in liquid form, though, it'll be easier to analyse with the means of a potion lab."

Dr Green made him promise to stay in his office and went first to the ward where the more frequently used substances where stored and then even to the room where the rarer – and more dangerous – drugs were kept. He returned with a box a short while later, mumbling to himself that this was madness.

Louder, he said: "You realize that if this becomes public, I'll lose my job?"

"Yes." Severus stated. "However, I don't plan to let anybody know about this, except perhaps the medi-witch, as she might know things about those drugs I don't."

"All right, then..." Dr Green answered, although he still looked doubtfully. Well, he couldn't blame the man, Severus thought, but as long as he was cooperative he wouldn't argue with him.

"You remember what I have said about the documents?" The Potion Master asked, already readying himself for apparation.

"Of course. I'll send you everything within the next few days."

* * *

In the end, it took Severus four additional days until everything was ready to take Harry out of St Mungo's.

He and Poppy studied the different substances Dr Green had provided them with in depths and decided that, for now, they would give Harry one antipsychotic regularly and a benzodiazepin whenever it seemed that Harry couldn't control the Horcrux any longer himself. The antipsychotic they had chosen had been approved by Dr Green, too, and the two of them had been rather relieved by it, since most other substances were either completely foreign to both the medi-witch and the Potion Master or their magical counterparts were considered rather dark and in most cases even dangerous.

Wednesday morning, Hedwig had delivered the official-looking documents Severus had asked the Doctor to send him, and even so it was obvious that they were muggle, it could only help their case if they had the approval of a specialist when demanding Harry's discharge.

Minerva had agreed on accompanying Severus to the hospital after classes had ended on Thursday afternoon and Poppy was an alert and would be ready to help if Harry required the assistance of a medi-witch once he was safe in Severus quarters (that's wards had already been strengthened and enhanced).

And so it was that on Thursday evening, the two Hogwarts-Professors discreetly left the grounds, apparated to London and finally knocked on the door of the Janus-Thickey Ward, waiting tensely.

###

Harry didn't know whether Professor Snape really had come and promised him to take him out of here or if everything had just been a dream. His inability to speak coherently prevented him from asking the nurses or doctors that regularly approached his bed and cast one spell or another on him.

Not that it was likely that he would have gotten an answer anyway, as the people on this ward hardly spoke to him at all. They never explained what they were doing next or why they had to cast the spell on him that made Harry feel as if he lost part of his sanity each time he had to endure the incredible pain. They only told him to calm down or to lie still if Harry managed to get out a moan or tried to get away from their wands, despite the charms that made his body feel like it was filled with lead, rendering him unable to move like he wanted to.

The worst part, though, were neither the spells nor the general unfriendliness of the people nor the fact that he had to stay in bed the entire time. No, the worst thing was what the spells seemed to do to his mind.

Harry couldn't tell when exactly it had started, but it had become worse over the last few days (well, he supposed it had been days, but he couldn't really tell as he still had no real sense of time). Somehow, the hexes made it even easier for the demon to get past him, to take control over almost his entire mind and as a result its attempts to hurt or kill Harry had become more violent.

And although it couldn't really do much to hurt his body (since even the demon was unable to do anything about the spells that prevented Harry from moving or even leaving the bed) it was pure hell. Harry wished that the damned creature would just slam his head against something solid in order to make him loose consciousness.

He didn't know how much longer he would last.

It was hard to describe what the demon did to his head, but Harry was rather sure that if this wouldn't stop very soon, he would die. Not physically, perhaps, but mentally. It felt as if the thing tried to rip his mind apart. It tore on Harry's very being and more than once Harry had thought that

at any moment now he would cease to exist. Then there were times when it screamed and tore through his mind with a speed that made him feel thick, and sometimes it forced Harry to watch horrifying scenes of other people getting tortured, and he knew that this was exactly what would await him once the demon had conquered him.

It was terrifying.

And it became even more terrifying when the white people started to make him swallow a potion each time before they cast that spell on him. His mind was too... open, too exposed, there was so much light and he couldn't shield himself from it – it wasn't a nice light, not that sort of light the nurses on Dr Green's ward had given him for the night to drive monsters away, no, it was a blinding white flash of light that flared up and crept into the very corners of his being.

The demon, enraged by the light or the intrusion or just by Harry himself, he didn't know, screamed and uttered terrible threats while rushing forward, chasing through his head, seemingly searching for an exit and in the process of doing so ripping on the very foundation of him, of his mind, of Harry.

Harry could feel that he was getting worse, and the thought what might happen to him soon terrified the child. Neville's mum seemed to sense his despair, as she used to sitting on the edge of his bed more and more often, caressing his head. Sometimes, she even put him upright and leaned his body against her thin frame, hugging him, humming a soft tune that was oddly familiar.

He didn't know how, though. He was sure that Aunt Petunia had never hummed to him, and Dudley's bedroom had been too far away from his cupboard for him to having overheard something quieter than the killing of another alien. And while the nurses and Dr Green had been much nicer than the people on this ward, they surely had never hummed to him!

He didn't give the matter much thought, though, as he could hardly concentrate anyway.

Harry was just trying to relax while, once again, Neville's mum was sitting beside him when suddenly, he became aware of loud voices coming from a part of the ward he couldn't see. He tensed. Hopefully, this didn't mean that anything bad was going to happen. He clearly remembered the last time he had heard loud voices (although then, they had been next to his bed) and the pain that had followed the argument.

Neville's mum, noticing the child's distress, carefully hugged him.

The next thing Harry knew was that there were two familiar black-dressed people staring at him and Neville's mum, obviously shocked at what they were seeing.

"Uuh-uhm, h-he-eyy..." Harry whispered.

###

To say that Severus was surprised when he saw Alice Longbottom sitting on the side of Harry's bed, cradling the boy to her chest and humming the same tune Lily had each time she had to bring baby Harry to an Order-meeting and the boy had fussed was an understatement.

Next to him, Severus heard Minerva drawing in a sharp breath, obviously he wasn't the only one who hadn't expected to find this when they had demanded to see Harry.

The nurse that had opened the door had, at first, flatly refused to let them see the boy, claiming that visiting hours had long since ended. When Severus had stated that as the child's guardian he had every right to see him whenever he wanted the irritating woman had grudgingly allowed him in but still refused to let Minerva accompanying him. It was only when he had told the witch in not uncertain terms that he wanted Harry to be discharged immediately that she had given in, and while she had all but run into the little room next to the ward where the healer-in-charge was currently reading the Daily Prophet, nipping on a cup of tea every now and then, the two Professors had made their way to Harry's bed.

While Severus was still trying to process what was going on, Minerva had already recovered and addressed the two people in front of her. "Harry, Alice... it's nice to see that the two of you have become friends..."

* * *

**Next Chapter: Will they manage to get Harry out? And what will happen once Harry finds out more about Dumbledore or what has happened to Ron?**


	27. Coming Home

_I don't own Harry Potter_

_As many of you have asked, I haven't yet decided what to do about the Longbottoms, but as it would be highly unfair to just leave them on that ward, I'm sure I'll find a way to get them out of there, too._

* * *

**Chapter 27 - Coming Home  
**

#

Alice Longbottom just smiled faintly at the two Professors and they couldn't tell whether she had recognized her former teacher and fellow student or not. Without uttering a word, she stood up, placed a brief kiss on top of Harry's head and petted his shoulder one last time before going back to her own bed, closing the curtain.

Harry stared after the woman. During the last few days he had started to see her as some kind of substitute-mum, as she was just like he had always imagined his real mother. Well, except that his imagined real-mum had spoken to him, but still, Neville's mum had been a much better mum than Aunt Petunia!

"Harry, we are here to take you back home – to Hogwarts." Severus added. When Harry tried and failed to speak, he hurriedly continued. "I know you can't speak, and you don't have to. Everything will be all right once you are at Hogwarts, we will sort something out. I'm sure Madame Pomfrey can do something about your voice, perhaps it's just a potion that has to wear off. It's all right with you to come back to Hogwarts, isn't it?" He asked sharply. While the Potion Master was quite certain that Harry would go anywhere if it meant he could leave this hospital, he certainly didn't want to force him into something he wasn't comfortable with.

As soon as the words had left his mouth, though, Harry nodded weakly – well, they had to do something about this as well. "All right, then I just need to-"

"Excuse me, but what exactly are you doing?" Severus was rudely interrupted by a healer, who was closely followed by the now-grinning nurse that had let them in.

"I will take Mr Potter out of this hospital. Now." He answered.

"Oh no, certainly not, Mr-?"

"Snape, Severus Snape, Potion Master at Hogwarts and the boy's guardian, I think the nurse has shown you the documents. Oh, and this is Professor McGonagall, Harry's head of house. So if you would please sign any papers that might be needed to get him discharged...?"

"Oh no, Mr Snape, you can't just withdraw Mr Potter from this hospital! He's quite ill, you see, and even dangerous if what I have heard is correct. No, I understand your concerns for the boy's health, but rest assured that we do anything we can to help him – and to make sure that he doesn't cause any further harm to others. So if you would please just come back during our visiting hours, the patients needs rest, after all."

"I think you have misunderstood me," Severus purred, "this wasn't a request. I _will _take Harry with me. He is under-age and as his guardian, I have every right to decide about his treatment and his whereabouts. Since I'm rather unsatisfied with his current condition, I have contacted the healer who has been in charge for him for several years and he agrees that Harry shouldn't stay in this hospital. The boy will get every treatment that is necessary, but not here."

"Which healer are you speaking about?" The healer-in-charge replied, obviously confused.

"It's actually a doctor, you know, a muggle-healer who is specialized on taking care of children like Harry-," Again, Severus was interrupted when the healer started to laugh.

"A _muggle?_" He asked, "do you really think a muggle would be capable of dealing with a clearly disturbed child like this?" Even the nurse had started to snicker by now.

Meanwhile, Professor McGonagall had moved towards the head of the bed and was trying to reassure a distressed Harry.

When the Professor had said that he would take him away from this awful place, Harry had been so, so happy, but now the stupid healer surely would convince Professor Snape that Harry needed to stay, oh how he hated this healer! Harry didn't quite understand what Professor Snape meant about being his guardian and the other healer – except he had spoken to Dr Green? But it didn't matter, nothing mattered, nothing but the prospect of getting out of this horrible hospital!

But now Professor Snape looked at him, his eyes dark with anger, and Harry just knew that the healer had convinced the Professor to leave him here, and surely the Professor would never come back again, he was so angry, and this meant that Harry would need to stay here forever and ever...

Severus noticed that Harry was close to a panic-attack. This incompetent healer, couldn't he see what a torture this was for the child? Making a quick decision, Severus tuned out the healer (who was still making fun about muggle-healers and their incompetence) and turned to Harry and his colleague. "Harry, I _promise_ you that I will take you out of here, today, this evening. I won't leave the ward without you, all right?" He didn't wait for a reply but just continued, "But it seems that in order to do so, I need to talk to the chief healer. Professor McGonagall will stay with you and I will sort this out. She won't leave either, so please try to calm down."

Turning back to the healer, he was satisfied to see that the man had stopped laughing and was now bristling with indignation. "Now listen to me, you can't just take the boy, I won't allow it-"

Grabbing the healer by his arm, Severus led him away from Harry back to the small room near the entrance door, leaving behind a frantic boy and an angry Transfiguration-Professor.

"I'm sorry for all of this, Harry, but I'm sure Se- eh, Professor Snape will have sorted this out in no time and than we can go back to Hogwarts. There is no need to worry, Professor Snape has every right to take you and as your head of house I wholly support him, as does Madame Pomfrey and your former healer that treated you when you stayed with your relatives. Everything will be fine, don't worry, the healers working at St Mungo's – that's the name of this hospital – don't like to be told that they are wrong about something but they will have to give in, even if it takes some... convincing."

Minerva continued to speak to her lion soothingly, hoping that it would calm him down while she waited for Severus to return. She was quite sure that St Mungo's could do nothing to keep Harry here, but still, she worried. Having seen the state the boy was in she really wanted to hex the staff – what had they done with Harry?! If their plan failed, if they had to leave without the boy – no, she didn't dare to think about it.

#

Meanwhile, the Potion Master had convinced the healer-in-charge that it would be better both for his health and his future career to call for the chief healer that was responsible for all wards on the fourth floor.

The man turned out to be completely oblivious to the fact that Harry Potter had been admitted to one of his wards 10 days ago and when he questioned the healer-in-charge why he hadn't been informed about such an important patient the former stammered something about Albus Dumbledore having asked them to keep quiet about the boy's condition.

"And since when exactly is Dumbledore your superior?" The chief-healer growled at the other man.

"Well, it's _Albus Dumbledore_, surely-"

"Exactly. Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts, not head of St Mungo's! Now, Mr Snape, I'm sorry for your inconveniences, of course you can take Mr Potter with you if you aren't satisfied with his treatment. I just need to sign the papers and you can be off, I hope you and your ward won't hold this against the hospital, it's not something that normally happens. If-"

"But.. but - Albus Dumbledore! The boy, Potter, he's dangerous! He attacked another student and almost killed him! Dumbledore gave clear orders not to discharge the boy except he himself is the one who asks for it!" The healer-in-charge yelled stubbornly, and Severus could only wonder about the man's inability to recognize a situation where it would be much better to keep quiet, at least if he wanted to continue to work for St Mungo's.

"As long as it's not the Ministry that decides that a person has to stay on this ward they are entitled to leave whenever they wish, especially if the patient in question is just a child and his guardian demands his discharge! You have seen the documents, haven't you? Additionally, Mr Potter is obviously cared for by a colleague in Surrey and the medi-witch of Hogwarts so there is absolutely no reason for not to discharge him! I recommend you stay silent now and go back treating your patients, Beaver! We will speak later because this will have consequences!" The chief-healer turned back to Severus while the obnoxious healer-in-charge finally got it and made himself scarce.

"As I said, Mr Snape, I'm terribly sorry about my colleagues questionable behaviour. I will just sign the papers and have the quill write the report for Mr Potter's usual healers and you can leave, it won't take long. Perhaps you want to go back to your ward until everything is ready?"

"All right, thank you very much for your cooperation, healer-?"

"Smith, Healer Smith, and no need to thank me, if there is anything else I can do for you just let me know, I don't want some unprofessional healer causing you lose trust in St Mungo's, after all..."

Half an hour later (apparently, the quick-quote quill had found more information noteworthy than Healer Smith had expected), the two Professors and their student were finally allowed to leave the ward. When the charms on Harry's bed were lifted it became apparent that it wasn't only due to the 'safety'-spells that Harry couldn't move properly and so the Potion Master scooped the small boy up and carried him towards the exit.  
When they had almost reached the door, Harry (whose head rested on the Professor's shoulder since his muscles felt too weak to hold it up on his own) saw Neville's mum smiling at him fondly. He briefly lifted his hand and waved at her, smiling back, never noticing the strange look Professor McGonagall was giving him.

* * *

The three of them used the public floo in order to return to Hogwarts. Unfortunately, the newly updated wards didn't allow them to floo directly to Severus' quarters so they settled for Minerva's office. As dinner was long since over, the deputy headmistress made sure that Albus was in his office before she allowed the two men exiting her office. The headmaster would learn soon enough about what they had done, but just now Harry needed rest as the last hour had already been rather nerve-wracking for the little boy (and his teachers too, admittedly).

Just minutes after Severus had arrived at his quarters, a soft knock on the door indicated the arrival of the medi-witch. After making sure that it was indeed Poppy, Severus let her in.

"Where is he?" The witch demanded as soon as she had entered the room.

"I have prepared the guest-room for him," Severus replied, "just come with me." And he led the medi-witch to a small room next to his own bedroom where he had put Harry down onto a bed.

"Hello Mr Potter, it's nice to see you again!" Poppy greeted the boy, who stared at her, clearly frightened. "Don't worry Mr Potter, I won't cast any charms on you that your guardian hasn't approved of – what?" The medi-witch hissed when Severus beckoned her to be silent.

"I have yet to speak with Harry about the change in his guardianship, so if you would please just check him over to make sure that there is nothing that need to be taken care of immediately?" He growled at the witch.

Poppy huffed but did as she was bid, after reassuring Harry that the spells would only scan his body, not his head, for any irregularities. However, the responding magic from Harry's body didn't reveal anything out of the ordinary except that the boy had ingested several different potions and that his muscles were rather weak due to one and a half week of constant bed-rest.  
Of course, there was the damage he – well, the Horcrux – had done to his left eye, it would take a while to heal completely and even then it was unlikely that Harry would ever be able to see again with the eye in question, but both the medi-witch and the Potion Master already knew about this thanks to the file the latter had sneaked out of the hospital earlier.

When she told the Potion Professor that there was no additional damage, he nodded satisfied. "All right. I think it would be prudent to check his blood and urine for any remnants of the potions they dosed him with." He turned to Harry. "Harry, Madame Pomfrey will draw off blood from you, all right? And we need an urine sample, too, in order to find out more about how the potions they gave you have affected you."

The boy nodded, and after an affirmative glance at Severus, Poppy knelled down next to Harry's bed, took his arm and prodded it until she had found a vein. "All right, it's just as small prick!" And with that, she pricked Harry's arm, slightly surprised when the boy only gave a slight wince. Most eleven-years old protested much more fiercely.

When she had taken several test tubes full of blood, Severus pressed a small cloth on the puncture to prevent Harry from getting a bruise. All the while, Harry just looked at the proceedings with mild interest.

"All right, then, now Severus will accompany you to the bathroom and then you are finished." Madame Pomfrey announced.

"Ca-an't yo-ou jus-just do the-e spe-spell?" Harry whispered. While there were no longer any spells on his bed that prevented him from moving, the potions they healers at St Mungo's had given him were still active and therefore forming coherent words (let alone sentences) was still difficult.

"What spell, dear?" The medi-witched asked, completely at a loss.

Harry scrunched up his face. How he hated those potions! Trying very hard, he started to explain about the spells that had removed the waste both from his bladder and – well, he would leave that. However, just when he had managed the first few words, he felt a hand on his shoulder. Startled, he looked up and saw Professor Snape motioning him to stop.

"I believe," Severus said, "that St Mungo's – or at least the ward Harry had the misfortune of being placed at – still employs more... invasive means to take care of the needs of the patients that are unable to leave their beds."

"Wha-? You mean they still use these defaecati-spells on their patients?" Poppy demanded, clearly upset. "But it's unhealthy, there have been several studies showing that it can cause permanent damage on the bladder and the bowls-"

"I know!" The Potion Master snapped, "But still, it appears that these spells have been cast on Harry several times each day for the last ten days, there is nothing we can do about this now."

"Well, I certainly will inform the proper authorities about such a blatant case of disregard for a patient's – a child's! - welfare!" Poppy snorted with rage.

And while the medi-witch continued to ramble about the idiots working at St Mungo's, Severus turned to Harry. "The spells they used to prevent you from having to use the toilet can cause injuries on your internal organs. It would have shown in the spells Poppy cast on you earlier, though, so you don't have to worry, but you'll use the toilette from now on. For now, I'll carry you, you are too weak to walk on your own." And with that, he scooped Harry up once again and carried him to the bathroom that was located on the other side of his bedroom.

Severus put him down directly in front of the toilet and handed him a small plastic cup. "I'll wait outside, just call me when you have finished!" And with that, he left the room.

Harry was relieved when the Professor announced that he would wait outside. It had been bad enough having the nurses at the hospital in Surrey watching him going to the loo, but the Professor?! No, he'd rather not think about it. He could only hope that the demon would leave him alone while he stayed with Professor Snape, otherwise the man might change his mind.

When Harry had finished, he called for the Professor and the man immediately entered the room. His cheeks slightly reddening, Harry offered the plastic cup with his pee to the man.

"Just put it on this board, Madame Pomfrey will take it once she leaves for the hospital wing." Severus said casually, trying to ease the boy's embarrassment.

Soon after the two men had returned to the guest-room – or rather Harry's room, Severus thought silently – Poppy took her leave. There wasn't much the medi-witch could do except analysing Harry's blood and urine just now.

Originally, Severus had planned to talk to Harry about everything – the changed guardianship, the Horcrux, the fact that he would need to stay in his quarters for an indefinite amount of time in order to be safe – once Poppy had left. However, he had noticed how the boy had tried (and more often than not failed) to stifle a yawn. It wouldn't do to speak about such serious things with an overtired child.

"Harry, I want you to take a Dreamless Sleep Potion now. It will make you sleep through the night and prevent nightmares. We will talk tomorrow, all right? Oh, and you need to take these, too." The Potion Master added while handing the boy two pills. "I have spoken with Madame Pomfrey and Dr Green about these – I'll tell you more about it tomorrow, I promise – and we think for now, it's the safest choice we have."

Harry swallowed the pills without hesitation and just wanted to grab the glass that held the Dreamless Sleep Potion when the Potion Master spoke once more.

"You'll fall asleep directly after you've taken it. If there should be anything wrong during the night, wake me up, all right? I will sleep in the room next to yours and if anything happens or if you feel that something is wrong you are to call for me. Don't leave the bed on your own, though. I have added a door that connects your room with mine, and I will leave the door ajar. Additionally, I have placed wards on your room that will alert me if you are in distress or in danger of the Hor- the demon hurting you. All right?"

"Yee-es" Harry answered.

"All right, then now you may take the potion."

* * *

When Harry woke up the following morning, it took him several seconds to remember where he was, but even when he had recalled the events of the past evening, it was only five minutes later that he remembered that he could move again. He didn't have to lie still any more!

Carefully, Harry raised first his left arm and then the right one. It worked! There was no invisible force any more that restricted his movements! Sure, he felt rather weak, but it didn't matter, he could _move_ again!

When the knowledge had sunken in, he did the next reasonable thing that came to his mind.

It was only when the Potion Master came running into his room that he remembered that he wasn't supposed to get up on his own.

"Harry!" The man asked frantically, "is everything all right? Why are you sitting in the corner? I have told you you need to stay in bed for now!"

"Bu-t.. but th-there weren't a-any res-straints-ss and I-"

"- and you decided to jump out of bed, yes?" Severus asked wrily. He absent-mindedly noticed that the boy's speech had improved significantly. Well, at least this was working out fine, as it seemed.

"Uhm, ye-ss." Harry nodded, "I'm s-sorry. I'v-ve forgot..."

"Well, since you're awake, we might as well have breakfast." The Potion Master decided to drop the matter. He knew how Harry felt about beds and he couldn't blame him for leaving it as quickly as possible once he had noticed that he could.

Yawning, Severus cast a tempus-charm and inwardly groaned when he realized that it was not even 7 o'clock in the morning. He had stayed up late last night, reading Harry's file and the new papers the healer had provided him with more thoroughly and developing a plan for the next few days. But it wasn't surprising that Harry had woken up this early, he supposed, as he had taken the Dreamless Sleep Potion rather early last evening.

"Ophi?" Severus called for his house-elf (well, technically it wasn't his but the elf would serve him as long as he was head of Slytherin).

The tiny creature popped up immediately "What can Ophi do for Master Snape?"

"I want you to make breakfast for two, Harry and I'll eat down here. Also, I want you to know that Harry Potter will stay with me for the foreseeable future but that you aren't to talk to anyone about anything you might witness in my quarters, not even to your fellow elves."

"Of course, Master Postion Master Sir! Ophi is not telling anybody about Master Harry Potter anything Sir!" And with that, the elf popped away again, presumably to the kitchen in order to make breakfast.

"All right, Harry, do you feel up to try to walk on your own?" Severus turned around only to be met with green eyes staring at him, obviously shocked.

"Harry?" he asked.

"What – what's _this?" _Harry exclaimed.

"What do you – oh. You have never seen a house elf before, haven't you?"

"A hou-house elf?" Harry asked blankly.

"Yes. They are... they are kind of servants. They serve wizards, do the cooking and cleaning and other stuff like this. You don't need to worry about them, though, they are very kind creatures and would never harm you."

"It was – this thing was _real_?" Harry couldn't believe it.

"Of course it is real," Severus frowned.

"Oh," Harry said, "I thought... I thought... well, doesn't matter..." he trailed off, but Severus could guess what the boy meant. Harry thought that Ophi had been a hallucination. It wasn't exactly an unreasonable assumption, considering Harry's childhood. But it definitively brought home to Severus that the issues in muggle-wizard-relationships had reached a whole new level. Wizards and witches might no longer be burned because of their magical abilities, but muggles seemed to be declared insane, people like Arthur Weasley were regarded as, well, perhaps not insane but certainly odd and crazy and who knew how many muggle-born witches and wizards received a similar treatment than Harry had because of seeing things and people that, at least for muggles, didn't exist...

Yes, he would definitively have to speak to someone working at the ministry, but there weren't many people who would listen to a former death-eater. Well, he'd think later about it, just now Harry (and he) needed breakfast.

"Right. Are you ready to join me into the kitchen? He asked the boy.

"Yes, Sir!" Harry eagerly nodded.

"Do I still need to carry you or do you think you can walk on your own?"

"' can wa-alk on my own!" Harry answered somewhat defiant. While it was nice having the Professor practically hugging him each time he carried him, it was a bit embarrassing, too. He was eleven after all!

"I'll stay next to you, if you feel dizzy you are to tell me at once!"

After a detour to the bathroom, the two men arrived in the small kitchen where breakfast was already waiting for them. Severus sensed Harry stiffen when the boy noticed the knife next to his plate. Without commenting on it, the Potion Master took Harry's knife away and he could clearly see the relief on his face.

"So, Harry, as I'm sure you have questions, you may ask me everything you want to. I don't know whether I'll be able to tell you everything, but I'll do my best." Severus addressed Harry after the two of them had finished eating.

Harry looked up sharply. He could ask _everything_? Normally, Harry just tried to gather as much as possible without resorting to direct questions, since people tend to ask even more difficult questions if they noticed that there were blank spots in your memory. But he supposed that since Professor Snape had actually _seen _the demon it was quite possible that he knew about Harry's rotten memory, too... Deciding that he didn't really have any other options, Harry hesitantly asked the question that had bothered him ever since he had woken up in hospital. "What happened? Why... why did I have to stay in hospital again?"

Severus let out a deep breath. The boy remembered _nothing_? "Do you have any memories about what happened in the Great Hall?"

Harry hesitantly shook his head. "Ron wanted to have lunch... I didn't feel so well... and then I was in hospital..."

"It seems that the Hor- the demon managed to take control over your body once more. It... well, surely you have noticed that they have put a plaster on your left eye?"

Harry moodily nodded. He had an idea what the Professor would tell him next.

"Well, when you and Mr Weasley had sat down, the demon got hold on your knife. It started to attack you and you sustained several stab wounds. I'm afraid your left eye was injured rather severely, too, and... well, it's unlikely that it will ever heal completely. It's quite possible that you'll never be able to see with this eye again."

"Never?" Harry asked, his throat dry.

"It's possible." Severus answered. He wasn't the type of person that sugar-coated things. Additionally, Harry might even see it as a form of betrayal once he found out that Severus had practically lied to him.

"This is... this why they to-ook me to hos-spital?" Harry quietly asked after a minute or so of silence.

"Well, not entirely. Ron Weasley... he tried to prevent you – the demon – from hurting you further. He didn't know about the demon, of course. It appears that the demon saw him as a threat as he was trying to thwart its efforts to harm you and... well, and it attacked Ronald, too."

"It – the demon – it attacked – it attacked _Ron_?"

"Yes. His injuries weren't serious, though, Madame Pomfrey had him healed within seconds. However, since your own injuries were rather severe, the headmaster decided to call for emergency-healers from St Mungo's, the wizarding hospital. They brought you to hospital to heal you and, well, since they believed that you yourself had hurt another student, they decided that it would be wise to keep you there."

Harry stared on the table in front of him for several minutes. Severus had just started to think about just continuing with his explanations when he noticed a drop of clear liquid falling from the boy's face down onto the table. When the first drop was followed by a second one only seconds later, the Potion Master stood up and knelt down next to Harry's chair, carefully raising the boy's chin with his thumb.

"Harry..." he whispered, not really knowing what to say. "Harry, everything will be fine, you'll see. Mr Weasley didn't sustain any lasting damage and thanks to your head of house and the medi-witch, the rest of the student's population believe it was just a prank that somehow went wrong. Nobody is mad at you!"

"R-Ron..." Harry stammered through the tears, "Ron – he was-ss my fi-first ever real friend!"

Severus sighed and summoned his chair, sitting down next to Harry. After a few seconds of hesitation, he put his arm around the boy's shoulders, offering comfort.

Immediately, Harry leant into the touch. It was so nice having somebody comforting him, even though he knew that he didn't deserve it. He had almost killed his friend! It didn't matter that it had been the demon because it had used his body, so he was responsible for it! Ron would hate him now. Everybody would hate him now! No matter what the Professor thought, Harry couldn't believe that anyone of the students would stay in the same room with Harry any longer.  
"What will happ-pen know?" He asked after a few minutes of silence. He hoped he wouldn't have to go to jail, but he supposed it would be better than the hospital...

"Well, you'll stay with me until you're better," Severus answered. "I'll do whatever it takes to get the – the demon out of your head. And once you are better, you can join your classmates again."

"But... but I need to go to prison!" Harry said incredulously.

"Mr Potter, first of all you are a child and children are not sent to prison, ever! Secondly, it wasn't you who attacked Ronald Weasley but the demon, so even _if _children would be sent to prison, there was no way anyone could charge you for that creature's doings! And additionally you are ill and require treatment that St Mungo's is unable to provide. Therefore, you will stay with me. You may see your friends but they will have to come to mine – our quarters as the headmaster seems to think that you are... unfit as a student."

"I don't have friends." Harry whispered dejectedly.

"Of course you have! Mr Weasley explicitly told me to rescue you from that.. that institution because he wanted to have his friend back! He came to me willingly to provide me with further information that might be of importance for your treatment. Do you think he had done so if he didn't want to be your friend any longer?" Severus huffed.

"Ron – Ron did this?" Harry felt as if he had been plunged into some alternate reality. Ron had gone to Professor _Snape_? The Professor he feared more than... well, than _anything_? To help him, _Harry_? The boy who had tried to _kill_ him?

"Yes. As I said, he might come to our quarters to visit you, but for now, you are not allowed to leave these rooms. Well, you are, but only if I accompany you. We might need to move to some of my other homes at some point, as I don't know whether Dumbledore will tolerate the current situation," he raised his hand when Harry seemed to want to interrupt him, "I don't care whether the headmaster approves of me taking care of you or not. You don't need to worry about how I will deal with my employer and I don't mind having you living with me. You wouldn't be here if I didn't want you to be here!"

"But I don't wa-ant to be a bur-rden..." Harry interjected.

"Then you will keep your room tidy and follow my instructions." Severus answered.

"I mean – I mean in stay-ying with yo-ou..."

"As I said, that has been my decision. I want you to stay with me. Do you have any objections?"

"No," Harry shook his head and tried his best to hide the small smile that was creeping on his face. The Professor wanted him!

The two of them talked for a bit longer, Severus telling Harry about the changed guardianship and his visits to Dr Green. To the Potion Master's great surprise, the boy seemed actually happy about the prospect of living with him!

The only time Harry was less than pleased was when Severus told him about the forged pills he and Poppy had given him until the day he had been brought to the hospital. He hadn't been sure whether to tell Harry about this, but in the end, he had decided that it would be better to admit having practically betrayed Harry (it didn't matter that they had only meant to help the boy, they had lied to him and it was quite likely that Harry not getting any medicine had played a role in the Horcrux being able to hurt Harry like this) than taking the risk that the boy would find out on his own. If he did, he would lose his trust in Severus, and rightly so.

Of course he explained to the boy why the medi-witch and he himself had done so, but when he saw that Harry tried his hardest to hide his anger, he sternly told him that he had every right to be angry at the Potion Professor and the medi-witch and that he should have asked Harry about the pills rather than just giving him forged ones.

"But... you saved me! And I don't want you to send me back to the hospital because of being ungrateful..." Harry objected.

"Mr Potter, I promise you I will never send you away, especially not to that hospital. You have every right to be angry at me and even if I hadn't made such a grievous mistake, I wouldn't be mad at you for being angry! You are a human being and everyone is sometimes angry, no matter whether the person in question has deserved it or not! You can't help your feelings and as long as you – you, not the demon! - don't resort to violence to express those feelings, I will never tell you off for what you are feeling, not to mention punish you!"

Harry looked into his lap, unsure what to say. "I still don't think it's your fault that the demon got stronger, Sir. Well, not completely, anyway. Professor Quirrell made the demon angry quite a lot, too..."

"Professor Quirrell? What did he do to you?"

"I don't know... nothing, really. Just, the demon seems to get more powerful each time I'm next to the Professor. I don't know why... the other day, it smashed my head against the wall after DADA. Ron saved me, though, and he didn't stop being my friend despite seeing what the demon is like!"

Severus rubbed his temple. This was getting more and more confusing.

* * *

**Next Chapter: Harry learns about the 'demon' being a Horcrux and a meeting (including blackmail) between Snape, McGonagall, Dr Green and a certain ministry-employee**


	28. Planning and Plotting

_I don't own Harry Potter_

* * *

**Chapter 28 -Planning and Plotting  
**

#

The first few days of Harry's stay with Professor Snape went rather smoothly.

When the Professor had to leave for his first class shortly after he and Harry had discussed Professor Quirrell, he flooed Madame Pomfrey, who stayed with Harry until lunch. At first, the boy had been wary about this, but when the medi-witch had suggested that Ophi could take her wand and only give it to her if she or Harry were in danger, he (reluctantly) agreed.

When Professor Snape had left, Madame Pomfrey, too, apologized to Harry for not giving him his real medicine and lying to him. It was only when the witch suggested to get rid of the bed in Harry's room (Harry had tried to correct her, telling her that it was the Professor's guest-room, but the medi-witch insisted that it was his room now) though, that he started to feel a little bit more comfortable in her presence.

Ophi helped the two human to dismantle the bed and once he had disposed of the (rather impressive) number of pieces that had made up the four-poster bed, he provided them with a large, thick carpet and enough pillows, blankets, quilts and even a few cuddly toys to fill out a whole corner of the room. Then the three of them attached a hook to the ceiling in order to hang up several lengths of material. In the end, Harry had something akin to a tent in his room, only larger and much more comfortable.

When Severus returned for lunch, he didn't know whether to laugh or to be annoyed at the havoc three people (well, two people and an elf) had wrecked in his quarters during only one morning. When he saw the grin on Harry's face, though, he decided to be pleased about the new turn of events. In addition to having a place to sleep he was obviously much more comfortable with than a bed, Harry was much more at ease with Poppy than he had been in the morning. Perhaps in a few days time, the medi-witch would be able to keep her wand when supervising Harry.

Originally, Severus had planned to speak to Harry some more this evening. However, when he returned from his afternoon classes (again, Poppy had stayed with the boy) he found Harry half-asleep over his potion textbook he had obviously tried to read to keep himself occupied. While the Potion Master was slightly affronted that someone could fall asleep while reading a _potion _book, he reminded himself that Harry had just started to take his medicine again and that it was quite common for people to be very tired in the first few weeks (or at least Dr Green had told him so).

Therefore, he only woke him up to make him eat supper before tucking him in for the night.

Before he left the room, he made sure that the wards that would alert him if Harry was in distress or pain or in any way uncomfortable were still in place. Additionally, he cast a spell on the walls so that they would feel like rubber when being forcefully hit. He knew that there were plenty of other items the Horcrux could use to hurt Harry, but since smashing the boy's head against walls seemed to be its favourite type of torture, it was better than nothing, and it would hopefully give Severus enough time to reach the boy before the creature could resort to other means.

Harry's remark about Quirrell's presence causing the Horcrux to be more powerful had shaken him. Sure, after what Ronald Weasley had told him about the DADA-Professor, Severus had suspected something like this, but if the boy had actually felt how the Horcrux had been roused by Quirrell... if he had learnt one thing from the extensive reading about Horcruxes and mind magic in general he had done over the last few days than it was that something like this could only happen under very special circumstances. The only way to wake a Horcrux without sucking the life out of another human being or resorting to either dark rituals or complicated spells that no one, not even Albus, would manage to cast in front of a whole class of noisy first-years undetected, was the nearby presence of the very soul the Horcrux had once belonged to, or at least another piece of it.

But this would mean... Severus sighed. He could feel a headache coming.

###

To the Potion Master's great relief, though, the Horcrux stayed quiet during the night and he ended up having to wake the boy for breakfast. Since Albus assumed that Severus would be away for the entire weekend (it certainly had its advantages to have to maintain an appearance as a spy and therefore associate with some of the other allies of the Dark Lord from time to time) he was free to spend the whole day with Harry.

He had planned to tell him a few more details about why he had to stay in his quarters and the headmaster's plans for him. Oh, he wouldn't tell the boy that Dumbledore actually wanted to kill him, no, but Severus didn't think it would be wise to keep the boy completely in the dark. Of course, he didn't know exactly how Harry was feeling, but after everything he had learnt so far about the boy, he thought it best to be as open and sincere as possible.

And then... well, he knew he needed to talk to Harry about the actual nature of the 'demon', too, though he didn't really know how to approach the subject. Harry had almost no knowledge about the Dark Lord or magic in general and he certainly knew nothing about mind magic. Well, somehow, he'd find a way.

"So, Harry, did you sleep well?" the Potion Master addressed the boy once Ophi had provided him with his usual coffee.

"Yes, Sir, it's real-really great, my ca-ave!"

"I'm glad to hear this. Now, we haven't exactly spoken much about the matter but if you have any questions about why you have to stay in my quarters you are free to ask." Damn, this wasn't easy! But how did you tell a child that the headmaster of his school was a risk to his health and even life?

"Uhm, I do-on't really have any ques-questions, Sir. I mean, I know I'm dangero-ous and it's really kind of yo-ou that you have taken me away from that hos-hospital. It's much ni-icer to be locked up here than in hospital..." Harry trailed of. He didn't really know what the Professor meant. Sure, he didn't like being locked up – ok, he hated it – but it wasn't the Professor's fault that Harry was mad and dangerous. And even so the knowledge that he was unable to leave this place (not that he really _wanted_ to leave, but the fact that even if he did want to leave he wouldn't be able to do so) was somehow terrifying, as long as he kept his mind off the matter it wasn't this bad. After all, if it hadn't been for Professor Snape he would still be in that awful hospital or even in prison!

"Harry," Severus sighed, "it's not about you being dangerous! And I certainly don't plan to keep you here indefinitely. If you feel uncomfortable, we can always move to my childhood home or even the manor of my family. It's only... you can't venture into the school. Technically, we are at Hogwarts, but since these are my quarters – our quarters now - the headmaster has no say about whom I invite to stay. But after the demon hurt you and Ronald Weasley – well, the headmaster said something that suggests that he wouldn't tolerate your presence in the school for now. Don't worry," he hurried to explained when he saw the expression of dread on Harry's face, "this won't be forever, once you are healthy again you are free to resume your education. But I fear that Dumbledore might decide to remove you forcefully from Hogwarts if he caught you wandering down the corridors. He might - he might try to hurt you."

"He'd send me back to that hospital," Harry said bleakly.

"Perhaps, yes. But I don't know for sure, he might even decide to send you somewhere I can't find you and can't take you from."

"So either he locks me up or you locks me up or the doctors lock me up! I hate it, I hate you all!" Harry yelled, tears streaming down his face.

"Harry, please-"

"No! I hate it! Everyone always locks me up, even you! I HATE ALL OF YOU!

"I'm sorry, Harry, I'm so sorry... I only want to help you-"

"Everyone only want to help me but I don't want your help if it means being locked up forever! Why don't you just kill me if I'm too dangerous to be allowed to be free like anyone else!?"

"Oh Harry..." Severus whispered, close to tears himself. At some point, he had abandoned his coffee and sat down next to Harry, holding the boy closely. But even during his yelling, Harry hadn't tried to pull free. Quite the opposite, actually, he seemed to enjoy the close contact and even now he was snuggling closer to Severus' chest.

When both men had calmed down again, Severus spoke again. "If there is no way to get rid of the demon..." he trailed off. He couldn't do this, he couldn't say this. But he knew that he needed to focus on what was the best for Harry, no matter how he himself felt about it. "If it becomes clear that no treatment works and the demon won't leave you alone, _you_ can decide how to continue. I will always be there fore you, Harry, but if you think that you can't go on the way it is... it's your decision, Harry, but please, just let me try to help you first."

"I have been in hos-spital for practical-lly my whole life the demon won-n't get 'way." Harry answered, sounding tired and defeated.

"I know, Harry, I know, but, you see, I think that it might be due to the fact that you are a wizard that Dr Green and the others were unable to help you. I think that you might suffer from something that can only affect witches and wizards. It's very rare, too, so even the healers at St Mungo's know nothing about it. I have a friend, though, who knows quite a lot about certain branches of magic, and while you were away, I spoke to her about you. I hope I'll find a way to get the – the demon out of your mind." Severus trailed off. He could feel that his words hat caught Harry's interest.

"I'm mad becaus-se of my magic?" Harry asked, completely stunned. "But I don't ha-ave any magic, I can't do spel-lls and such things!"

"You certainly have magic, Harry. However, the medicine Dr Green prescribed you seems to have suppressed it. I didn't know this was even possible and neither did Poppy – Madame Pomfrey. You remember me entering your mind, do you?"

"Yes..."

"Well, when I was in your mind, I have discovered what causes your magic to be stunted. It doesn't seem to be permanent, though, and once we have gotten rid of the demon, you'll be able to learn magic, I'm quite sure of this."

"But there is no way-y to get rid of the demon, not even the medic-iccine can make it go away."

"And this is because it isn't an ordinary demon but something magical. You know about your parents death, do you?"

"Yeah..." Harry didn't know what the Professor meant. People – first Hagrid, then Ron and even Hermione Granger - had told him about his parents and the evil wizard, yes, but this had nothing to do with the demon! Or did it?

"Well, when the evil wizard tried and failed to kill you, his spell was thrown back at him. But somehow, it didn't kill him but just broke his soul into pieces. The largest part of his soul fled from your and your parent's house and has been in hiding ever since. A tiny part of his soul, though, stayed, and since you were the only living being in the entire house, it attached itself to your own soul."

"There is a part of the evil wizard's soul in me?" Harry asked horrified.

"It seems so, yes. Your scar – you know that it is quite famous amongst the wizarding world as it isn't an ordinary scar. But in contrast to popular belief, it isn't the result of an injury caused by the killing-curse but the remnants from a piece of the Dark Lord's soul entering you."

"But – I want it gone!" Harry demanded, "I don't want it in my head, it's stinky! And the demon, it's even worse than having a demon inside one's head!"

"Harry, the piece of the soul of the dark wizard and the creature you have referred to as a 'demon' are the same thing. It's the foreign piece of soul that has always hurt you."

"I WANT IT OUT I WANT IT OUT I WANT IT OUT!" Harry was in hysterics. He was grabbing his forehead with both hands as if he wanted to tear out the scar. Severus was rather certain that this wasn't the Horcrux' acting.

"HARRY, NO! I have told you no violence! We WILL get rid of it but you have to listen to me!"

"I DON'T WANT IT IN MY HEAD!"

"Harry calm down!" The Potion Master ordered and to emphasize his point, he pulled the boy back against his chest. Hopefully, this would calm him down, and if not, it would at least prevent him from starting to throw the dishes through the kitchen.

Harry continued to scream for a little while longer, but soon his yells gave way to sobs and once again Severus had to comfort an extremely distraught Potter.

Harry cried and cried, and the Potion Master couldn't begrudge him his tears. The boy had had two horrible weeks, not to mention that he had been told his whole life that he was mad. Finding out that everything he had had to go through was practically the fault of the same wizard that had murdered his parents was probably worse than simply being told once again that he had an incurable mental illness.

When Harry had cried himself to sleep in the Potion Master's arms, the man carefully carried the boy to his room and placed him into his 'tent'. Casting additional wards that would alert him if Harry had a nightmare, Severus went into his own bedroom and skimmed through his books once again, searching for a particular paragraph he needed to re-read to be completely sure that his next move wouldn't complicate matters.

After about two hours or so, he had found all the information he needed and penned a quick letter to one of the few ministry employees that he knew had neither been a follower of the Dark Lord nor was devoted to Dumbledore, demanding a meeting. Then he scribbled another note to Dr Green and asked Ophi to fetch Hedwig who would hopefully be in the owlery (he couldn't very well fetch her himself, supposedly being on some sort of death eater (currently inactive) congress).

As expected, the owl was overjoyed when she discovered that her master was back at Hogwarts and it took some convincing to get her out of the sleeping boy's tent. In the end, though, she deigned to allow Severus to tie the letters to her claws and after careful instructions, Ophi delivered her to the entrance doors of the castle.

* * *

The rest of the weekend passed in a much quieter fashion. Severus answered more questions once Harry had woken up (being considerably calmer than when he had fallen asleep) but most of the time, the two of them just sat in the living room and relaxed.  
Once the Potion Master had noticed that Harry had nothing to read except for his textbooks, he sent Ophi to the Slytherin common-room to collect a few novels suitable to first- and second-years. However, the boy seemed to have difficulties reading them – whether it was because of his long periods of absence from school or the negative effect the drugs had on his concentration Severus couldn't tell – and when he fell asleep for the third time, the Potion Master submitted to the inevitable: He grabbed the book and read to the boy who was comfortably lying on one of the sofas, eagerly listening.

Late on Sunday afternoon, Minerva visited the two men and demanded that Severus opened his floo at least for her and the medi-witch, as she refused to wander down to the dungeons each time she wanted to see Harry. Of course, Severus refused, claiming that it would be all too easy for Albus to use her floo once he had found out what was going on.

In the end, they agreed on setting a password in addition to the Potion Master having to answer each and every floo-call personally and expressly allowing the person to come through. That settled, the Transfiguration-Professor was just about to leave for her own quarters (using the newly established floo-connection, of course) when there was a knock on the door that led out of Severus' quarters.

Minerva, slightly alarmed, drew her wand but Severus only huffed at her and opened the door.

To Minerva's great surprise, a white owl – wasn't this Harry's? - fluttered into the living-room and landed on his outstretched arm. She was just about to ask how it came that an owl travelled all the way down into the dungeons when she saw the two letters the bird had just brought.

Severus unfold the letters, read them and smirked. "Minerva, do you care taking part in a little meeting tomorrow evening?"

"About Harry?" McGonagall inquired, her eyebrows raised.

"Partially... you will be able to meet the muggle that has taken care of Harry while he stayed with his relatives – his doctor, Dr Green, it's the same as a healer. And then I have invited your old friend Madame Bones..."

"Amelia? I didn't know you had anything to do with her! Do you think it's safe to let her know about Harry? And why did you invite her anyway?" Minerva was rather confused. She and Amelia had been at Hogwarts together and they still met regularly, but at no time the other witch had told her something about being in contact with Severus Snape!

"Let's say I think she'll be able to help us with something that Dumbledore has either overlooked or decided to ignore. I'll tell you more once the other two are here, too. But let me assure you that it will help Harry's recovery."

* * *

The next evening, Severus left for Surrey in order to fetch Dr Green directly after dinner, which he had taken in the Great Hall while Poppy had stayed with Harry in his quarters. Albus didn't seem to be suspicious yet and he planned to keep it that way as long as possible.

As he had proposed in his letter, Dr Green had agreed to come early in order to meet Harry before the actual meeting. Severus had told Harry that Dr Green would visit him in the evening and the boy seemed to be ecstatic.

Just as expected, Harry bounced through the living room once the Potion Master had come back and countered the disillusion-charm he had placed on the doctor.

"Harry, it's good to see you again!"

"Dr Green! You're here! Professor Snape says that I'm not mad but that something from the bad guy that killed my parents is in my head! We might be able to get rid of it and then I won't be crazy any longer! Professor Snape can see the demon- no, wait, Hocus... Hocux... well, anyway, he can see it!" Harry chattered on and on, clearly pleased. He might have hated the Doctor at times, like when the man had ordered to tie him up or to force-feed him, but generally speaking, Dr Green was all right. And in comparison with those healers at the wizarding hospital... Harry involuntarily shuddered. Better not thinking about it!

Soon, he pulled Dr Green into his new bedroom (Professor Snape had assured him that it would be Harry's as long as he wanted to stay) and showed him his tent and the books the Professor had got him and demonstrated how soft and bouncy the walls became if you hit them (which caused an alarm to go off, which startled Harry but reassured Dr Green who had been worried about the walls made of stone).

Too soon for Harry's liking, Professor Snape told him that it was time for him to go to bed (though he had to admit he was rather tired) and Dr Green took his leave, assuring him that they would meet again soon. Unbeknownst to Harry, Professor McGonagall and Amelia Bones had arrived at their quarters and when Severus had tucked him in (he did this every night once he had found out how much Harry enjoyed this simple gesture) he left with the instructions to call for Ophi if he needed anything, except if it was an emergency, of course.

###

"Snape, what is the meaning of this?" Madame Bones demanded as soon as the Potion Master had entered the living room where Minerva, Dr Green and the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement already sat.

"As I said in my letter, there is something I need the assistance of the ministry with. You are, I think, aware that Professor Quirrell has returned to Hogwarts after a year of absence and now teaches DADA?"

"Yes..." the witch answered, frowning.

"Well, it seems as if he had some rather unfortunate encounters while travelling who know where. He is a threat to the students, and since some of his... activities seems to be questionable, if not illegal, I want you and your Aurors to remove him from this castle."

Both witches looked at Severus wide-eyed. Clearly, Minerva hadn't had any clue about Quirrell.

"You said this would be about Harry! I can't see what Quirinius has to do with Harry's difficulties!" The Transfiguration-Professor was slightly annoyed. Sure, she didn't particularly like Quirrell, even less so than she had before the man had left, and she had to admit that there was something... creepy about him, but surely Albus could deal with such a thing?

"I can hardly launch an investigation only because of your accusations, Snape! There is no proof whatsoever that the man has been involved in anything illegal! And what does this mean, this meeting being about Harry?" Amelia turned around to her friend and gave her a questioning glance.

Severus huffed. He didn't trust the witch enough to let her in on Harry's secret. Fortunately, though, there was something else that might persuade her to do as he had asked. "Quirrell's interaction with Harry Potter have provided evidence that he must have encountered the Dark Lord – or what is left of him – during his extensive travelling. Not only this but the man has some sort of connection to you-know-who that goes beyond anything I have seen in my time with - with Him and his followers. It might be some sort of possession, I don't know, it'll be your business to determine what exactly Quirrell has been up to. Anyway-" but he was interrupted by Madame Bone's cold reply.

"Evidence, Snape, evidence! Claiming that Quirrell behaved unusually in the presence of Mr Potter can hardly be considered evidence! If my niece's letters is anything to go by it would have been far more alarming if the man behaved completely normal when being confronted with the Boy Who Lived!"

Severus let out a long exasperated sigh. "I cannot tell you what exactly happened between Quirrell and Mr Potter, but let me assure you that I would not have contacted the ministry if I wasn't one hundred percent certain that Quirrell and the Dark Lord are up to something. However," he raised his voice when it appeared as if the annoying witch would interrupt him once again, "there are other... arguments that surely will convince you to start an investigation and remove the man from this school!"

"And this would be?" Amelia asked mockingly.

Severus inwardly smirked. This was going exactly as he had hoped for. "As the Head of Magical Law Enforcement you are responsible for the persecution of those wizards who have harmed muggles, even if it happened in the line of duty and even if said wizard is a ministry-employee himself, I suppose?"

"Yes, of course!" Madame Bones answered rather impatiently.

"Well, then you might be interested in certain discoveries Dr Green and I have made during the last two weeks," Severus replied, slightly nodding to the Doctor who had a look of dawning comprehension on his face.

"What do you mean, Snape? I don't have all day, you know!"

"Several Obliviators have failed to do their job properly which has lead to muggles being able to remember encounters with wizards and magical creatures. Some of them seemed to have been hit by botched memory-spells with even more disastrous results. There have been several cases where those muggles thought to be insane and were drugged with rather toxic substances in order to keep them quiet. Some of them were locked up, too, sometimes for years. And of course, there are some cases in which the damage the muggles sustained when being obliviated by some incompetent ministry-employee has led to them committing suicide or sustaining permanent physical impairment by trying to cope with the effects of the spells cast on them."

Madame Bones seemed to be too taken aback to reply, so Severus decided he might as well go on.

"Of course, most of these cases don't pertain to your department directly but to the offices that deal with muggle-wizarding relations, but you might want to start an investigation on those, too. It would be a sign of goodwill towards the muggle-government, as certainly you understand that we have to inform them about their people being harmed by a branch of our ministry. As far as I know, the muggles even spend millions of pounds each year for the treatment and care for those affected by messed up spells. I don't think they will react very favourably to this discovery, they might even decide to reconsider the treaty of Hogsmeade..."

The Potion Master knew that this was his trump card. Madame Bones was by no means corrupt, quite extraordinary if you considered other high-up members of their government actually, but she wouldn't allow anything that put the agreement the wizarding community of Britain and the British muggle-government had reached in 1688 at risk. It was only due to the treaty of Hogsmeade (that guaranteed the wizarding world the right of self-government) that the ministry of magic had as much power as it had.

And if the muggles found out about the the harm done to many of their citizens by this very ministry they might very well decide that it was too dangerous and put it back under the control of the Prime Minister and the Queen. After all, the UK was one of the few countries that had granted the wizards such an amount of freedom. Most countries insisted that their respective heads of state had the final say in any matter that concerned the wizarding population and only allowed a small secret department within their own government to deal with wizarding affairs.

And then there was the fact that Amelia Bones, while being a pure-blood herself, didn't consider wizards superior to muggles. Severus was quite sure that she wouldn't allow incompetent Obliviators continuing to hurt muggles. No, she would launch an investigation and it was quite possible that some heads would roll. And since it had been the Potion Master who had brought this to her attention, she would feel obliged to do him a favour or two in return.

"This..." Amelia had finally found her voice back "these are severe accusations, Snape! If what you claim is true... well, I'm sure you know exactly what consequences this might have if it became public. But how can I tell that this isn't something you have made up in order for me to do you a favour and investigating Quirrell?" Her eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"Actually," Dr Green spoke up and the two witches, who had momentarily forgotten the man's presence, started, "as a psychiatrist, I'm responsible for the treatment of people who have been exposed to your world as Professor Snape has explained. There are several cases I know of that proves that what the Professor has told you is true. Of course, these are only the patients my colleagues at the hospital in Surrey have treated, there are probably thousands of patients throughout the UK, not to mention the world, that have been negatively affected by your society as well. It won't be a problem to find as much evidence as you need.

"But let me assure you that I won't stay silent about this, something has to be done about your lot harming innocent people! There are patients who have to be constantly drugged and supervised 24 hours, 7 days a week in order to keep them reasonably calm and prevent them from hurting or killing themselves, only because you have meddled with their brain! But even the less severe cases, have you any idea how harmful some of the medications that people who claim to have seen a dragon or people waving sticks and do things that defy everything the average human being has ever learnt being possible can be? People become obese because of these drugs and have a high risk for severe cardiovascular diseases, the brain shrinks and their life expectancy is reduced up to 10 or 20 years!"

When he had finished, the whole room was silent for several minutes. Even Severus hadn't known exactly _how _bad it was. He resolved once more to find a way to dispel the Horcrux from Harry's mind as soon as possible, he wouldn't risk Harry getting ill because of the medicine!

Suddenly, Dr Green spoke up once again, apparently having thought of something else. "I don't know what you plan to do, but if you decide to wipe my memory, I have written down everything I have learnt so far. Copies of my notes have been stored at places that will assure that the authorities will learn about this even if I don't make a complaint myself. You won't be able to cover this up any more, not this time." Every occupant of the room could tell that he was deadly serious.

"All right," Amelia Bones finally said in an oddly calm voice, "would it be all right for you to provide me with a written overview about at least a few cases you know of? I need something to start the investigation with, after all, and since the matter seems to be rather delicate it would be better to have it in writing."

"Of course. You'll have it in two days time. That is, if I can borrow Harry's owl once more."

"I'll ask Harry – and Hedwig – but I don't think either of them will mind," Severus assured him while both Minerva and Amelia stared at the Doctor in shock. Apparently, they had never met a muggle who had accepted owl-post so readily.

"Right, then," Madame Bones pulled herself together once more, "I suppose you plan to inform the muggle-government of this if I don't launch an investigation on Quirrell?" She asked drily.

"Well, we can't allow someone that is clearly dangerous staying at a school full of children. And if the only thing convincing you of the urgency of the matter would be discussing the way the ministry of magic deals with muggles with their government, we are prepared to do so." Severus answered and Dr Green nodded in affirmation.

Amelia scowled at the two men, but Severus could tell that it was more for show than anything else. "I will start the investigation first thing in the morning, I suppose. I don't think it will be necessary to remove Quirrell from the school-grounds right away," having received an affirmative nod from the Potion Master, she continued, "and the other matter - well, I don't think I need to explain to you that utmost discretion is imperative, at least until I have found out how far-reaching this is."

"Of course," Minerva joined in the discussion, "and this is particularly true for Albus," seeing Amelia's raised eyebrows, she explained in more depth. "I don't know what he plans, but I have told him repeatedly that something is wrong with Quirinius, but he insisted on let him teach once again. I don't pretend to understand how this is related to Harry, though I trust that you know what you're doing, Severus."

The man didn't miss the warning in her last statement. "I'm quite certain that once the man and his possessions have been examined by someone who his experienced with dark arts it will become obvious why I consider the man a threat for Harry."

"All right, all right, I don't know whether I want to know what all this is about, but if Dumbledore isn't supposed to learn more about the matter than the Prophet undoubtedly will write I don't think it would be wise to ask Mad-Eye to do the job. Well, I'm sure I'll find someone else, or perhaps I should just lead the investigation myself..." Amelia trailed off, thinking, and it was only after a few seconds that she continued, choosing her words carefully.

"I don't know whether this has anything to do with your concerns about Quirrell or Dumbledore, but when I talked to my precursor a few weeks ago he mentioned something about a deal between Dumbledore and some wizard in France his department had to sanction. He made it clear that it was something rather sensitive and that the attempted robbery of Gringotts might have something do with it, though he didn't seem to be sure. We haven't made any progress in that case yet, though this might very well be due to the goblins refusal to cooperate. Anyway, if you know anything about this you should think about whether your information could be of value for my department. I might even forget about the bribery then..." Madame Bones said with a wink.

* * *

**Next Chapter: The removal of Quirrell and the appearance of a certain wizard from France  
**


	29. The Stone

_I don't own Harry Potter_

_I apologize for the little (really little, I promise) history-lesson you will find in the last section of this chapter, but I really love history and, well, this particular subject makes me sick every time I read about it... anyway, a few people have mentioned that this story is already quite long (which is true, I never imagined it would become this long when I started writing it) but that there hasn't really happened very much. I mean, yes, and on the one hand, I wanted it this way - there are so many stories where as soon as it is discovered that there is something wrong, the solution is right behind the next corner, and I wanted to have it different, more realistic. And on the other hand, this is the first story with more than 10,000 words I have ever written, so I'm not perfect and there probably many things a more skilled writer would have done better. In retrospect, I can see some things I would have shortened or left out completely, yes, but I don't have the patience to finish such a long story before starting posting it. And I absolutely love the feedback you give me, and it has already helped me immensely to improve some things!  
I hope nobody thinks that I don't want to get critical reviews, on the contrary! I just wanted to explain myself. _

* * *

**Chapter 29 - The Stone  
**

#

_Hogwarts-Professor Possessed by Relics of You-Know-Who_

_Recent investigations carried out by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement have brought about completely unexpected and horrifying results. Professor Quirinius Quirrell, who was supposed to be this year's teacher of Defence against the Dark Arts, was taken into custody after it was revealed that he was possessed by a relic of you-know-who that had somehow survived undetected for all these years. _

_The Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Madame Amelia Bones, refused to release further information but denied that rumours about students being injured before the man could be taken into custody were true. Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, who claimed to have known nothing about the dangers one of his staff-members posed for the students is facing an investigation himself._

_The ministry announced that a press conference would take place in a few days time, on which further information regarding how it was possible that a tinny bit of you-know-who continued to exist for almost ten years would be released to the public. The possibility that additional relics of you-know-who could exist was denied. _

_The fate that awaits Quirrell remains unclear, currently Unspeakables are examining the man in order to decide how to best obliterate the abomination. _

* * *

Severus sighed when he folded the paper. It was Thursday morning and the Great Hall was unusually busy as students ignored the normal sitting arrangements to discuss the news about one of their Professors having been arrested by the ministry with their friends. The staff had managed to hide the events that had taken place the previous day from the students, but as many of the older ones (and all Ravenclaws, of course) had a subscription of the_ 'Prophet', _the staff had already expected that today wouldn't be a quiet day.

Neither Minerva nor Severus knew any details, but Madame Bones herself had interrogated Quirrell two day before while a few Aurors had searched the man's office. However, they hadn't found anything incriminating and to the Potion Master's horror, Quirrell had remained at school. Fearing that the man might decide to escape, the heads of houses (Flitwick and Sprout had been told an edited version of events) had kept track of their colleagues until the next morning Madame Bones had arrived with two Unspeakables and a court order that allowed her to use more invasive spells and, if required, even Veritaserum on the suspect.

It had only taken a few minutes until a whole squad of Aurors had arrived to take Quirrell to the ministry.

Dumbledore, who had somehow managed to convince himself that Quirrell's interrogation the day before was nothing to worry about, only a slight misunderstanding, had been taken by surprise completely. Of course, he had flooed to the ministry right away and hadn't returned for several hours.

When he finally had been back at the castle, though, he had cancelled all lessons for the rest of the day and ordered his staff into his office. Apparently, Madame Bones had not only refused to release Quirrell despite Dumbledore demonstrating an impressive bit of magic (making the windows of the whole ministry tremble certainly wasn't a feat many wizard's could achieve) but he had also learnt about the changed guardianship of one Harry Potter and the fact that the boy had been discharged from St Mungo's several day's ago.

To say he had been displeased would have been a severe understatement.

At first, it had looked as if Flitwick, Sprout and the rest of the staff would side with Dumbledore, as certainly 'he had his reasons to deal with Harry the way he did'. However, when the headmaster had to admit that Quirrell had been possessed by the Dark Lord himself, all Professors had been outraged that their employer had hired the man without checking that he was fit to teach children.

Sprout and Flitwick, the only ones except Minerva, Severus and Albus himself that knew about the treasure currently hidden in one of the deepest dungeons of the castle, had looked at their fellow heads of houses meaningfully and the Potion Master had known instantly that, firstly, the two of them doubted that having the Philosopher's Stone and the Dark Lord at the school at the same time was a mere coincidence and, secondly, that Sprout and Flitwick were likely to reconsider their initial reservations about Severus having custody of the Boy-Who-Lived.

Predictably, Dumbledore had ordered that Severus was to stay behind when he had finally allowed the other teachers to leave.

"Severus, my boy, what have you done?" the headmaster had asked sorrowfully.

"I have sworn and oath, Dumbledore. I will keep Lily's child safe."

"But it's not safe for him to continue living, Severus! As long as Harry lives, Voldemort will be able to return."

Severus had winced at the the nickname of Tom Riddle. Usually, the headmaster was careful not to use it when the Potion Master was present, knowing exactly what it did to his youngest staff-member. Well, it seemed as if he had lost this little bit of consideration. "He has managed to do so even without using the boy, hasn't he?"

"Well, yes," Albus replied uncomfortably, "but the boy – he is a threat to the students, and even if the Unsepeakables manage to destroy the piece of Voldemort that has taken possession of Quirinius, the Horcrux in Harry's mind will give him yet another chance to return!"

"And what makes you so sure that he won't be able to return once you have killed Harry? How do you know that he hasn't made additional Horcruxes or found other means to achieve immortality?"

"Well, it's not likely..."

"I won't allow you to kill an innocent child, Albus."

Albus had looked at the Potion Master thoughtfully. "Where have you brought the boy, Severus?"

"He is safe, both from the Horcrux and from you, but I certainly won't tell you where he is."

"He is at Hogwarts, then?"

"I won't tell you, Albus, but let me assure you that wherever he is, I have made sure that you cannot reach him."

Again, the headmaster had been silent for a minute or so. "What are you planning to do, Severus? If you don't allow me to kill Harry... certainly it will be a lot more cruel to hold him captive for the rest of his life, won't it?"

"Yes, but I won't do this either. I have already spoken with an old friend of mine who is much more knowledgeable than you when it comes to Horcruxes. I'm certain that there are ways to remove this being from Harry's mind without killing the boy. But if this should turn out to be wrong... well, we'll see. But I certainly won't allow you to kill Harry just because it's the most convenient way to get rid of the Horcrux, Albus."

Dumbledore had shaken his head. "I doubt there is anyone alive who knows more about Horcruxes than I, Severus. But I understand that you want to save the boy, he is Lily's, after all. I just wish you would trust me to know best, my boy. It's not as if I'm happy that Harry has to die, no, but sometimes sacrifices have to be made... yes."

Shortly after this ridiculous statement, a furious Severus Snape had left the headmaster's office. The old coot really believed that killing Harry was right! Ever since the Potion Master had found out about the state the boy was in and Albus' rather questionable handling of Harry after that fateful night, he had wondered whether the headmaster was much more manipulative than he had originally thought and played some sort of deep game or if he really believed that everything he did was right.

Considering Dumbledore's magical skills and his general intelligence, it was almost unbelievable, but after what the man had stated, it certainly seemed as if he was convinced that he knew better than anybody else what was right and what was wrong. Sure, the man was a rather good Occlumens, too, but Severus doubted that he would manage to hide something of this magnitude.

At least Albus didn't seem to be determined to to get Harry out of Severus' clutches immediately, which meant that, for now, it was safe for the boy to stay at Hogwarts.

* * *

Severus snapped out of his thoughts when a rather grumpy Minerva addressed him. "Did the old coot bother you and Harry during the night?"

"No," he replied, "I felt him casting several spells on my quarters, but he stopped once he noticed the upgraded wards. I think he merely tried to find out whether Harry was in my quarters or not, if he had wanted to break through the wards I'm certain I would have noticed."

"Good. He kept _me _awake until three o'clock in the morning, trying to convince me that he only had Harry's best interest at heart and that he would never harm the boy if it wasn't absolutely necessary. Seemed to think that I would be more likely to hand Harry over to him than you."

Well, that certainly explained the Transfiguration-Professor's grumpiness, Severus thought silently. "Where is he, anyway?"

"At the ministry. Apparently, Madame Bones owled him early in the morning. I don't know whether she had learnt anything new, though."

Severus was just about to reply when the morning owls whirred into the Great Hall. A brown tawny owl he didn't recognized dropped a scroll with the ministry-seal on his plate. Frowning, he scanned the letter and absent-mindedly noticed that Minerva seemed to have gotten a similar one.

"Bones demands another meeting..." he trailed of, eyeing his colleague questioning.

"Yes, wonder what has happened _now_" Minerva nodded. Apparently, she had gotten the same letter.

"Well, I suppose we will find out after lunch," the Potion Master replied, since the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement had requested his – and seemingly Minerva's - presence at the ministry this afternoon.

"Yes-" but Minerva was interrupted by the sudden appearance of a Patronus that had the form of a swan.

"Severus, come to your quarters, it's urgent!" it announced with the medi-witch's voice before it evaporated into thin air.

The Potion Master was on his feet immediately. Something was wrong with Harry, he knew it!

Ignoring the curious looks from students ans staff alike, he stormed out of the Great Hall. Only a few seconds later, or so it seemed, he rushed into his quarters and was greeted with loud screams he wasn't sure were human.

"Severus!" Poppy called, clearly relieved that he had arrived. "Good, you're here! I don't know what caused this, but – NO!"

The last word had been aimed at the boy that was currently fighting with all his might against the medi-witchs grip on him, and the Potion Master hurried to the door that led to the kitchen where the two of them were engaged in some sort of wrestling match in order to help.

"Harry, stop! Calm down, it's all right!" He stated, his voice raised but not yet screaming as he didn't want to alarm the boy – if he could hear him, that was. He motioned Poppy to step aside so that he could take Harry – who was still screaming and trying to get away from the adults. Once the boy was safely in his arms, Severus carried him to the living-room and sat down on one of the sofa, wincing now and then when a particularly vicious kick of the child's feet hit his legs.

Not really knowing what else to do, he continued mumbling nonsense until Poppy, who had slipped away as soon as she did no longer need to make sure that Harry didn't slam his head against the wall, returned.

"It's the altered version of calming draught you have made," she said, brandishing a small flask, "do you think it's safe to give it to him?"

"Would I have made a whole kettle full of it if Harry couldn't take it?" the Potion Master retorted, grabbing the flask. "Harry, I want you to drink this, it will make you feel better, I promise."

"NOOOOOOOOOO... I won't!"

"Yes you will! Now open up!" And he uncorked the flask with one hand while Poppy stepped next to him in order to keep Harry's head as motionless as possible. Still, only half of the the contents made it in Harry's mouth.

The child swallowed reflexively and a minute or so later, his fighting started to cease.

"Harry? Are you all right now?" Severus asked once Harry had stopped struggling against his grip.

A weak nod was all he got in reply, though the boy snuggled closer to his chest which suggested that the weakness was more due to fear or tiredness rather than the Horcrux still having control over Harry's body.

"Can you tell me what happened?" Severus prompted gently.

"Demon... no, Horcrux. I'm sorry! I just... I couldn't..." Harry broke off, his voice pleadingly.

"I know, Harry, I know," Severus answered. Unconsciously, he had started rocking the child.

"It just got me and started fighting with Madame Pomfrey and I couldn't do anything... are you mad?" Big, green eyes stared at Severus worriedly.

"No, Harry, I'm not mad. It's not your fault that the Horcrux managed to get control, I have expected something like this. I'm just glad that it didn't harm you – it didn't, did it?" He added sharply.

"' don't think so..."

"Good. Do you know what happened before the Horcrux started to fight?"

"Madame Pomfrey and I had just entered the kitchen to have breakfast," Harry replied with an unsure voice. What did the Professor mean? As if to emphasize his statement about not having had breakfast yet, Harry's stomach gave a loud growl.

"Severus, it happened just when I was about to give Harry his medicine." The medi-witch interrupted the exchange between the two men.

"It did?" This wasn't good. If the demon tried to prevent Harry from taking his medicine... well, they would need to be extra careful. "Now, Harry, shall we try having breakfast again?"

The boy's enthusiastic nod brought a small smile on the Potion Master's face.

* * *

When Severus and Minerva entered Amelia Bone's office, both were surprised to find a man who looked even older than Dumbledore already sitting there, apparently having a serious discussion with Madame Bones.

"Ah, you're here, good!" Amelia greeted the two Professors and motioned them to sit down. "This is Nicolas Flamel, Mr Flamel, these are the Professors Snape and McGonagall who have brought this matter to my attention."

Upon hearing the name of the old man, Minerva and Severus looked at each other in complete shock. Sure, they had known that their employer had, at one time, worked with the legendary man, but not even in their wildest dreams had they expected to ever meet him. The Flamels had almost completely withdrawn from the wizarding world centuries ago!

"May I inquire what Mr Flamel has to do with Quirrell?" Severus asked, "you have written that this meeting would be about what you have found out being wrong with the man."

"Dumbledore hasn't told you, then?" Madame Bones asked, her eyebrows raised.

"No, he has stayed in his office ever since he returned from the ministry and refused to speak to anyone. I don't know whether he's just sulking or if he plans something, though." Minerva responded.

"Well, then, where should we start?" Amelia said thoughtfully. "Quirrell has been kissed -"

"WHAT?!" Minerva exclaimed, while Severus stayed silent. He remembered very well what Audrey had said about ways to destroy Horcruxes, and even if he wasn't sure whether it had been another Horcrux or something entirely different that had possessed Quirrell, he knew it had once been part of the Dark Lord. Knowing that it had been... 'removed' by one of these dreadful dementors was a relief, yes.

"Yes. The Unspeakables that were assigned to deal with him decided that it was the only way to prevent further harm. You-know-who had possessed him, Minny!"

"_Possessed_? By... by _you-know-who_?" The Transfiguration Professor seemed to have difficulty comprehending what she had just heard.

"Yes. We were able to determine that during his travelling, Quirrell came to Albania and encountered a sliver of you-know-who that has, for lack of a better word, 'lived' there ever since that fateful Halloween. Whether it was willingly or not, the remnants of you-know-who possessed Quirrell and eventually the man became a mere slave of him. Perhaps Quirrell volunteered to help him, we don't know, but when he returned to Hogwarts, everything Quirrell did was ordered and controlled by you-know-who.

"This is where Mr Flamel comes in." and she nodded towards the other wizard. "As you probably know, Mr Flamel is the only known wizard who ever created the Philosopher's Stone. Early in his career, Dumbledore worked with Mr Flamel for quite some time and this summer... well, perhaps you should continue, Mr Flamel?"

"Very well," the old man inclined his head. "Dumbledore and I became friends. A few month ago, I approached him because I was looking for a new hiding-place for my stone. There have always been people who were after it, so I have made a habit of finding a new place for it every ten or twenty years. He recommended Gringotts as he told me the Goblins had become more agreeable during the last two-hundred years, and I followed his advice.

"However, during the summer he contacted me again to inform me about new threats that he had been unable to foresee. Apparently, someone was after the stone again and already knew in which vault it was stored. Albus offered me to hide the stone at his school. Naturally I refused, you can't hide something this dangerous in a school full of children, but he insisted that it would be perfectly safe and that by having it nearby, he might even be able to catch the one he thought to be the would-be thief red-handed. What convinced me to agree to his plan, though, was the prospect of Albus finally defeating the relics of the latest dark wizard that he was sure was the driving force behind the wizard that he suspected to be after the stone."

"Albus knew that you-know-who was after the stone and nevertheless agreed to hide it at Hogwarts?" Minerva asked, incredulously.

"Yes. I know Dumbledore is a powerful wizard, I never doubted that he would be able to defend the stone against any threat if necessary. He assured me that he would set up wards and barriers no one would be able to breach, and that the students wouldn't even notice that something was... different."

Minerva, who couldn't believe that Albus had been prepared to risk the life of the students if it meant that he would get the opportunity to defeat you-know-who once for all and that the old man had actually had the audacity to ask his employees for help, being fully aware that they would have never agreed to set up all those traps if they had known who exactly they were guarding the stone against, was just about to ask further questions when Severus started to speak.

"Let me get this straight," the Potion Master said, trying very had to stay calm and collected, "Quirrell has been possessed by the Dark Lord for weeks, if not month, and has ordered the man to steal the Philosopher's Stone?"

"Yes," Madame Bones answered, sounding very serious, "apparently, the remnants of you-know-who's soul that had taken possession of Quirrell thought that by using the stone, it could create a new body for himself. If he had succeeded..." she broke off, the horror in her voice palpable.

"It wouldn't have worked, though." Flamel quietly but firmly said.

"It wouldn't? Why not? Isn't the Elixir of Life meant to make anyone who drinks it immortal?" Severus asked sharply.

"Yes, but that's just it," Flamel replied, smiling slightly, "someone who is alive will become immortal, at least if it is taken regularly. But a splinter of a soul can hardly be called alive. Sentient, perhaps, yes, but certainly not alive."

"So what would have happened if he – or Quirrell – had drunk the Elixir of Life?" McGonagall asked.

"I don't really know. Quirrell would have survived the possession for much longer than he would probably have without drinking it. Or perhaps Voldemort needed him immortal for some dark ritual that would have brought him back to life but would have killed Quirrell before it could have been completed. It is also possible that Voldemort didn't really understand the stone in the first place and mistook it for something that would allow him to leave the state of half-life he was in."

While Minerva, Bones and Flamel continued to discuss the recent events, Severus thoughts were racing. Why hadn't he thought of this sooner? It was so obvious! The Philosopher's Stones rendered a living being immortal, but it couldn't create life. So a non-living being wouldn't be affected by the Elixir of Life either, would it? He asked Flamel, not caring that he interrupted the old man's tale about another dark wizard who had tried to steal the stone more than three centuries ago.

Flamel was taken aback by the young wizard's blunt question. He wasn't used to people who didn't treat him as if he was some kind of god. It was quite refreshing, though, he though. "Yes, that's right. I have done plenty of research about this matter, only living beings are affected by the Elixir. It doesn't matter whether it's a creature or plant or a human.

"Ghosts or stones, on the other hand, have never shown any signs that suggest that the Elixir of Life does anything to them. And the things muggles have invented to cope without magic – several of these devices certainly _seem _to be alive, they can make noises, need energy to function properly, are more skilled than most craftsmen and some of them can think faster than humanly possible – well, they even tend to react negatively when being exposed to the Elixir. I have bought plenty of muggle-stuff, my wife even started to question my sanity, but no matter what I tried – bathing the things in the Elixir or pouring it in openings that seemed to be similar to a mouth – most of them stopped working completely. It was almost as if the Elixir killed them instead of making them immortal..." Flamel trailed off, frowning.

Severus had to stifle a laugh. The mental image of the ancient wizard drowning electronic devices in a magical potion and wondering why they stopped working was quite peculiar indeed.

However, when he asked his next question he was deadly serious once again. "So if Quirrell had drunk the Elixir of Life before you had him kissed... what would have happened?"

For several moments, Flamel and Bones looked at each other blankly. Then the legendary wizard cleared his throat. "Well, I suppose the sliver of Voldemort would still have been sucked out by the Dementor. I'm not sure about Quirrell's soul itself, though. After all, the dementors doesn't really kill the wizard. But it's entirely possible that the results wouldn't have been quite as disastrous for the poor man."

Madame Bones snorted. "Poor man?! He was allied with Y_ou-Know-Who, _he would have ended up in Azkaban anyway!"

"And what would have happened if instead of having the man kissed by a dementor someone would have cast the killing curse at him?" Severus asked sharply, ignoring the curious stares he received from his colleague.

"Capital punishment has been banned by the ministry decades ago, how can you even suggest something like this?!" Madame Bones snapped, clearly irritated.

"Oh yes, I forgot, you just leave people rotting in Azkaban for years or allow dementors to suck out their soul, which of course is much more humane than simply killing them." Severus voice was dripping with sarcasm and he was pleased to see Bones blushing.

"It wasn't me who ordered those creatures to do this to Quirrell, and I have tried to convince the responsible people for years to replace the guards at Azkaban!" Madame Bones retorted fiercely. She wouldn't have an ex-death-eater telling her about right and wrong.

"If you would be so kind to answer my question, Mr Flamel?" Severus addressed the old wizard directly, trying to ignore the infernal muttering of Bones.

"Well, it's quite possible that Quirrell would have survived the curse, even so you can't be sure. I don't think anyone has ever attempted something like this... determining whether the Elixir is strong enough to protect you even from the darkest spell there is. Theoretically, though, it should work."

"But you're not sure?" The Potion Master pressed.

"No, the only way to know it for sure would be to try it out, and even then you never know whether a human body would react in the same way both to the Elixir and to the curse than an animal's body – as you can't very well risk the life of a human being only to find out more about how the Elixir combined with a spell works."

"Hmmm..." Severus thought about what he had just learned. Madame Bones eyes him suspiciously while Flamel looked at the young wizard with mild interest.

It was Minerva, however, who broke the silence. "While I admit that theories about dark spells and Alchemy are quite fascinating, could we please come back to the topic at hand?" her exasperated voice made it clear that she hadn't a clue why Severus was so interested in what to her appeared to be magical theory that had no actual use in real life.

"Yes," Madame Bones hurried to agree, "there isn't much more I wanted to tell you anyway, but I thought that since the two of you have who have brought the matter to my attention in the first place, you would probably be interested in the outcomes of the investigation, too."

"I trust the stone will be dealt with, then?" McGonagall asked crisply.

"I will collect it before I return to France," Flamel said calmly, "I'm sorry for the inconvenience I have caused the English Ministry, but I think you understand that it's not easy to safeguard such a treasure from anyone who might abuse it. Actually, I have already thought about destroying it, after more than 500 years life tends to lose its fascination anyway..." he broke off.

"Right," Minerva said, a bit disconcerted about Flamel's statement, "as for You-Know-Who-"

"Don't worry, Minny," Amelia Bones interrupted her old friend, "there is no way the sliver that had taken possession of Quirrell could have escaped the dementor, it's probably already digested and... well." She broke off awkwardly. No one of the current occupants of the room really wanted to think about what might become of souls – or part of them – once they had been digested by a dementor.

Severus, who wasn't so sure that the piece of the Dark Lord that had resided in Quirrell was no longer a threat – he didn't know whether it had been a Horcrux or something else, after all – resolved to ask Audrey about her opinion. He would need to speak to her anyway before he tried anything regarding the Stone as he wasn't prepared to risk Harry's life.

When Minerva and Severus took their leave, he briefly wondered whether he should ask Flamel about the possibility of, well, 'borrowing' the stone right away, but he quickly dismissed the idea. Flamel was sure to speak to Albus when he retrieved the stone, and even so the Potion Master thought that the headmaster wouldn't oppose a plan that would save Harry's life while simultaneously getting rid of the Horcrux, he wasn't prepared to take any chances. After all, he didn't know whether the man had additional reasons for demanding Harry's death.

* * *

When the Potion Master returned to his quarters, he was surprised to find not only Poppy (who had once again babysat Harry) but also Dr Green sitting in his living room, having a heated discussion about how mentally ill people were treated in the wizarding world.

"I tell you, your hospital should be closed permanently if this is the normal way you care for severely traumatized people! They need psychotherapy, not being locked up for the rest of their life with not therapy whatsoever!"

"But there is no way people who have been under the Cruciatus Curse for such a long time will ever recover, all you can do is to keep them as comfortable as possible!"

"How do you know this if you have never even _tried _to treat the victims of this curse appropriately? And the ward the woman and her husband are confined to can hardly be called comfortable if only a fraction of what Harry has told me is true – and the boy isn't prone to lying, you know!"

"Perhaps it's just different in our world! I'm certainly not defending the way those healers have treated Harry, but the Longbottom are war-heroes and if there had been any way to get them sane again I'm sure the healers would have applied the treatment immediately! The mother of Frank is one of the most influential members of our society, after all!"

"But you must admit that their treatment leaves much to be desired," Severus, who had given up hope that the two of them would notice his return on their own, interjected, "and seeing that at least Alice seems to be much more aware of her surroundings than I would have thought, I wonder whether the Janus-Thickey-Ward really is the best place for them."

"But Severus, where else should they go? It's not as if there are many other options for wizards that have sustained such serious brain damage."

"Brain damage?" Dr Green interrupted, "I thought they had been tortured with this curse that is incredibly painful but doesn't leave any physical marks?"

"Well, yes-" Madame Pomfrey began, not knowing what the doctor meant.

"Then how can they possibly suffer from brain damage?"

Both Severus and Poppy didn't know what to say as the point Dr Green had made was rather logical. "I don't think anyone has ever bothered to take a closer look at the Longbottoms," Severus finally stated, "people like them... well, they aren't regarded very highly in our society. Sure, the two of them being war-heroes might have led to them being treated marginally better than other people with a similar condition – there have been cases where mentally disturbed wizards have been locked away and hidden by their own families for years – but still..." he trailed off, trying not to think of what he had learnt about the history of the Dumbledore-family during his time as a death eater. Some of Voldemort's followers had taken great delight in pulling the leader of the light's questionable family to pieces.

"It was similar in our world, you know," Dr Green replied, "for many centuries, people used to hide their mentally ill relatives, and anyone who had the misfortune of being institutionalized was kept under condition worse than the conditions most animals have to endure. And fifty years ago, the Germans used to simply kill those people. The leader of them was a lot like your Voldemort, actually." Dr Green let out a bitter laugh while Madame Pomfrey flinched and Severus reflexively clutched his left forearm.

When Severus had recovered, he started to speak again. "Well, perhaps we can do something to help the Longbottoms. The chief-healer I spoke to when we took Harry seemed to be rather cooperative, and since you are a specialist when it comes to mental illnesses, it might be possible to convince him that there are other places the two of them could stay. Of course, we have to speak to Augusta Longbottom, but since she only cares about her son's glorious past, I don't think she would mind either."

The three adults talked a bit longer about whether they could do something for the Longbottoms, and in the end they decided that the best course of action would be to think about it for a bit longer and speak to Minerva, as she was the person closest to the Longbottom-family (including Augusta) they could think of.

Severus especially was eager to change the subject. Not because he didn't care about the woman who had obviously helped Harry quite a lot during his time at St Mungo's, but because he had been dying to ask the doctor a few questions ever since he had read one of the older books about electro-convulsive therapy the man had lent him.

Finally he got rid of Poppy and immediately started to interrogate the doctor. "I have read those books you have kindly lent me, and I have a few questions concerning this... this means of treatment."

"Yes?" Dr Green said pleasantly.

"If I have understood this correctly, this bout of electricity causes the brain to be flooded with chemical messengers and thereby altering the way it works, yes?"

"It's rather simplified, but yes, that's about how this kind of treatment is supposed to work."

"Then what would happen if an even larger amount of electricity would be conducted through a person's brain?"

"Well, I suppose the person would experience serious seizures and some form of permanent brain damage is quite likely. Of course, if the electricity exceeds a certain level, the person would likely die."

"Yes, I thought so." Severus trailed off.

After a minute or so of silence, Dr Green, unsure about what the other man was after, couldn't restrain his curiosity any longer. "I suppose this has something to do with Harry?"

"Yes," Severus snapped out of his thoughts, "well, it's not only about Harry but more about magic in general. Of course, it might be a useful thing to know when it comes to destroying the Horcrux in his mind."

When all what he got was a questioning glance, the Potion Master deigned to elaborate. "This therapy – it seems to be similar to the way a certain dark curse works. The very curse that killed Harry's parents and caused the boy to become a Horcrux in the first place, actually. The caster has to employ a high amount of his or her magic, which at some level can be seen as another form of energy. When the curse hits the victim, it's just too much energy for a living being to take, and as a result, every form of energy in the victim's body – magic, heat, electricity, no matter what – evaporates. The body can't deal with such a high amount of energy and simply shuts down."

"And this is related to Harry how?" Dr Green asked. While he thought magical theory to be quite fascinating, he didn't see how this had anything to do with Harry.

"Well, one of the means to destroy a Horcrux is casting this curse – the killing curse – at the container of this being. Harry, in this case. But perhaps such an electric shock can replace the killing curse." Severus didn't manage to keep the hope out of his voice completely.

Anything would be better than having to cast the Avada Kedavra at Harry. Even if by using the Elixir of Life they could reduce chances of Harry being killed, still, only thinking about having to cast this curse at Harry made Severus feel ill. But he knew that if it came to that, he himself would be the one who would cast the curse. He wouldn't trust anyone else with Harry's life.

* * *

**Next Chapter: Ron and Harry meet again, Snape learns whether his plot to destroy the Horcrux might actually work and additionally he gets to know why adults normally don't sleep on top of a pile of cuddly toys and pillows.  
**


End file.
